


Time Passed Makes It Plain

by flinchflower, knittycat99, nubianamy



Series: The Donutverse [27]
Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Astronomy, Backstory, Birthday Presents, Break Up, Collars, Coming Out, Dom/sub, Family Drama, Graduation, Horses, M/M, Multi, Not Proposing, Panserbjørne, Parades, Polyamory, Schmoop, Season/Series 01, Secret Relationship, Singing, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-04 01:50:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 34,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2904890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flinchflower/pseuds/flinchflower, https://archiveofourown.org/users/knittycat99/pseuds/knittycat99, https://archiveofourown.org/users/nubianamy/pseuds/nubianamy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A host of endings and beginnings, as sophomore year draws to a close.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published as chapters 54-57 of The Fingers of Your Fire. 
> 
> Set after the last episode of season 1 of Glee. This story follows Bring Your Heart Back To My Island and parallels There's an Awful Lot of Breathing Room.
> 
> You can listen to the 8track playlist for Fingers of Your Fire [here](http://8tracks.com/nubianamy/the-fingers-of-your-fire) (part of the enormous FoYF one is still [on YouTube here](http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLc72s_nGT2yT62f9-u6XxCAAE_VjrOVen), although people keep deleting the videos I link to!). I will also include links to all songs throughout the story, for reference.

Lauren didn't move when Principal Hartford's office door opened and Sarah Puckerman emerged, but Sarah spotted her right away.

"Don't you have high school?" Sarah asked.

"Special dispensation." Lauren held up her note. "Looks like you're stuck with me all summer."

Sarah's grin was definitely delighted. "Cool."

"C'mon. Loughner wants to talk to both of us." She jerked her head for Sarah to follow. They walked through the empty hall together.

"Is it weird to be back at the middle school?"

Lauren nodded. "I'm different. This place looks so tiny, but it's more than that. I hated myself in middle school. That person sucked, and I'm not that person anymore, but… being here, it's hard not to remember." She nudged Sarah's arm. "You're totally doing the right thing by getting past the middle school shit as fast as you can."

"I haven't had that school-sucks thing," said Sarah. "I kind of like it. Aren't some people going to be awful no matter what?"

"Some people, maybe. But the rules change once you get older. It's way less of a popularity contest and way more of a meritocracy." Lauren waggled her eyebrows at her. "You're going to rule everything because you're smart and fair and clever. If you can avoid getting crazy about boys, all the better."

Sarah smirked, kicking the hem of her voluminous skirt with the toe of her boot. "I'm pretty sure having  _my_  brothers means I'm never going to take boys all that seriously."

"Boys have some serious flaws. I'm not saying they don't have their uses, too, but there are way too many girls who spend all their time thinking about what they can do to attract boys' attention. But that's not how you play the game."

She opened the door to Mr. Loughner's room. He looked up from his laptop and smiled, taking off his glasses.

"Thanks for coming, Lauren. How did things go with Principal Hartford, Sarah?"

"Fine?" She shrugged. "He gave me permission to miss the last couple weeks of school. He said in exchange he wants me to write something about the project. I told him I'd take pictures of the construction site over the summer."

"Great. I have some more paperwork for you to complete. Your foster father will need to fill out the rest of it before the end of the year regarding your double promotion, but I don't think there's any hurry. Now…" He turned to Lauren. "It seemed like the two of you got along well over the course of your project. Lauren has agreed to mentor you again next year as you make the transition to eighth grade."

"Do we get to keep Skypeing with each other in the middle of the school day?"

Mr. Loughner laughed at her excitement. "Yeah, I think we can arrange that. I also want to pair you up with another eighth grader as an on-site mentor. Do you know Marley Rose? She's a superb student, very sweet."

Sarah gave him a dubious look. " _Marley?_  Yeah, I know her.  _Sweet_  is an understatement. I'd prefer to avoid developing diabetes."

"Well, I'd appreciate you giving her a chance." He sounded as firm as Lauren remembered him being. She grinned to herself at Sarah's disgruntled expression. "I'll leave these papers with you. Lauren, would you help her fill them out? Then you can bring them back to the office on your way out." He shook her hand. "If I don't see you before the end of the year, have a good summer."

"You like him," said Lauren, as Loughner left them alone in the classroom.

"I like that he treats me like a human being, even though I'm eleven. And he doesn't stand in my way when I want to try stuff." She carefully filled in her name at the top. "I'll be so fucking glad when I can get rid of this name.  _Puckerman._  Why would I want to be one of those when I could be a  _Hummel?"_

"You'd rather be like Kurt than like your brother, huh?"

"Noah is awesome with awesome sauce," Sarah said staunchly. "But he needs help to make things happen. They tell him what to do, and he listens."

This was interesting. "Who tells your brother what to do?"

"People."

"You mean Kurt?"

"Among others. You'll have to get details from Noah. I'm not gonna snitch."

"Hey, I'm a secret keeper. I don't think I've ever said two words to your brother, but he's cool. I wouldn't tell anybody." She grinned. "Trust me, I know enough about people in this town to make or break a dozen careers."

"You're not the only one. I'm still not telling."

Lauren wasn't going to push her. But she had to wonder what was going on in that house. She knew Puck and Sarah were being adopted by Mr. Hummel, and she'd heard Finn Hudson was living at the Hummel house now too. Finn, although he'd never actually attended the discussion portion of the BDSM munch in Columbus, had shown up a couple times to talk to Six, and he was obviously doing  _something_ with Derek. Kurt, she never would have pegged as a Top, but he was dating Sarah's brother. It was always possible he could be handling him, too. For that matter, she wouldn't put it past nice Mr. Hummel at the tire store to be everybody's secret Daddy.

"So what are you and I supposed to do this summer?" Sarah asked.

Lauren showed her the contract. "It's an extension of the thing we signed in January. We've got to explain our rationale, and what each of us will be doing."

"Well, I'll be gone until June, but after that I'll be around. I'm going to be with Noah until school's out, and then we've got this family reunion thing."

"Mr. Hummel's taking you to his family reunion?"

"No, it's Carole's family. Finn's mom," she clarified. "She invited all of us."

Lauren decided asking more questions would just be rude. She was going to have to figure this out without pumping Sarah for information. On the drive back to McKinley, though, she had to wonder why she cared.

She found Kurt in the hallway. "Hey, Hummel," she called.

He looked appropriately startled to be addressed by her, but he paused. "Um — yes?"

"What's up with Sarah's brother? Puck. He had a kid, right?"

"Beth," he said warily.

"Relax, I'm not here to harass you, or him. But everything's cool there? He's not in trouble or anything."

"I wouldn't put it past Noah to get himself in trouble," said Kurt. "But he's in good hands where he is. I'm not worried about him. Why?"

_Good question,_  she thought. She wasn't sure how to answer it yet. "I'm going to be working with Sarah this summer. She's a good kid. I like her. She's got some secrets to keep."

Kurt nodded, still suspicious. She sighed.

"Apparently you and me, we've got some things in common. Like, of the leather toys variety."

"Oh!" He was completely floored. "Really?"

"Yeah. I was thinking, if we're going to be working together all year, it'd be easier on her if she didn't have to worry about keeping her mouth shut. You think you can trust me enough to tell me some stuff, and I can reciprocate?"

It wasn't exactly a fair exchange, considering Lauren had never bothered to keep secrets about herself. But Kurt was nodding. "I think… that's a good idea. I'd rather not talk about it at school if we can avoid it, though."

"You pick the neutral ground, Hummel."

He hesitated. "You could come over after dinner?"

"Talking about it at your house feels better than at school?"

"We don't have any secrets from my dad," said Kurt. "Or anybody, really."

That was surprising. Lauren smiled, and Kurt broke into an equivalent smile. "That's cool. Most people have pretty sucky relationships with their parents about this stuff."

"I know. I'm really lucky. Not that my dad hasn't been… well, it's taken him a while to accept it. We threw a lot of new things at him this year."

"All right." She handed Kurt her cell phone. "Put your number in. I'll text you and you can send me your address. After dinner?"

He typed in his number and handed it back, nodding. "See you then."

Lauren wasn't one to perseverate on something. She prided herself on dealing with things as they came up, and letting them go when they weren't of use to her anymore. But her curiosity had been piqued about this odd set of people.  _Finn Hudson, the quarterback, Noah Puckerman, the bad boy — and his awesome sister — and Kurt Hummel, the diva. And their parents._

But there was nothing to prepare her for the shock of seeing the woman who met her at Kurt's front door. She was older, but it was definitely the same face Lauren had seen a million times in the frame on Irene's mantle.

"You must be Lauren," said the woman, smiling. "I'm Carole. Won't you come in? We're just finishing dinner."

"Thanks," she said. "I can wait out here while you guys eat."

"Don't be silly. Kurt and Finn are washing the dishes. Meals go a lot more slowly now that Puck is out of town. Would you like something to drink?"

Sarah hopped up from the table with a smile when she walked into the room. "Kurt said you were coming over."

"Figured I'd meet the family," she said. Carole seemed nice, but the appraising look she got from the man on the couch made her brace herself for the usual judgments she got from new people. Sarah was dragging him over by one hand.

"Tatenui, this is Lauren," she said. "She knows a ton about computers, and she's awesome at AutoCAD. She basically taught me everything I know."

"She basically taught herself, actually," Lauren said to the man. "I just gave her tips."

"Well, whatever it was, we're very grateful for the help you gave Sarah," he said. He shook her hand firmly. His smile seemed sincere. "Call me Burt. I'm Kurt's dad. And —" He glanced at Sarah, grinning in a flash of amusement. "I guess Sarah's too, almost."

"And Noah's," Sarah added.

"Yeah, I heard he was away, taking care of… his daughter." She relaxed a fraction. "Thanks for having me over. Sarah and I will be working on more project stuff over the summer, before she goes into eighth grade. But I'm here to talk to Kurt."

Finn Hudson's appearance in the doorway to the kitchen, drying his hand on a towel, was only slightly incongruous. "Hey, Lauren."

"Hey," she said. It might have been the first words they'd ever spoken to one another, she wasn't sure.

"Kurt's finishing up with the dishes. He'll be done in a minute. We can go downstairs."

"Nice to meet you, Lauren," said Burt, settling back on the couch. Carole was already sitting beside him. They were too close to be just friends.

"You too," she called back. She followed Finn down a short set of stairs into a half-finished sitting room. Sarah came along behind them. The walls were grey, but the couch in the middle of the room was green, and there were packing boxes stacked along every wall.

"Sair, we're gonna talk about grownup stuff," said Finn. "Hey, don't give me that look."

"Since when are you a grownup?" Sarah scoffed. But she willingly retreated through a door in the far corner, shutting it behind her. Lauren turned to consider Finn.

"You're Christopher at the munch," she said. "What are you here?"

"Finn's good," he said. "And you're just Lauren, right? No secrets?"

"Plenty of secrets," she corrected. "Just none of my own. Kurt said he'd be willing to answer questions, though."

"Okay." Finn sat down on the couch. "You can ask me anything you want, if you're okay with the confidentiality thing."

"Like I said, I keep people's secrets. But… seriously." She sat down beside him. "You've got to tell me why Tib's got a picture of your mom in her living room."

Finn's face went red. "I don't know if I can talk about  _her_ secrets. Does… uh." His voice became hushed. "Does she really have a picture of her?"

"Oh, shit. Don't tell me I just gave something away?" She rapped herself on the forehead. "Bad form, Lauren."

"No, no — I knew. We all know about that. It was just a long time ago, when I was a baby." Finn shook off his bemusement. "I take it you and, uh, Tib are friends?"

"She's my mentor. Sorry, yeah, this name game thing is a pain. What do you call her, Irene?"

"Irene," said Finn. "She's pretty awesome. She and — Derek are friends, I guess."

"I know Carl's real name too. I know most things, really, but I didn't know about your mom. That's kind of cool. Did she tell you about the scene?"

"No!" Finn shook his head emphatically. "I had no idea she'd done anything like that until long after we got involved."

"We."

She waited while Finn glanced back at the stairs. "It was me and Puck first."

"No shit." Lauren definitely hadn't expected that. "You're his Dom?"

"It's kind of a group effort. Me and Kurt, and another guy. Trust me, he needs it."

"You and Kurt. And your parents are living together." She shook her head. "I've heard of two brothers Topping one person before, but—"

"He's my boyfriend," came Kurt's light voice from the stairway. He walked over to sit beside Finn on the couch on the other side, and rested his hand on Finn's leg. It was definitely not a brotherly caress. "They both are. We're all together. Our parents met and fell in love because of us, after we told them about our triad."

Lauren laughed. "Jesus fuck. This is like a daytime TV drama. You should write this stuff down."

"It gets better," Kurt said, smiling.

"And Sarah knows all of it?" They nodded. "That makes life easier for me. I don't have to lie about where I go on Saturdays once a month, for example."

Finn turned to Kurt, taking his hand. It was a casual gesture, but they were clearly comfortable around one another. "Irene is Lauren's mentor. She goes to the BDSM munch in Columbus too."

"Well, that explains a lot. You told her about your own mentor?"

"I guessed about Carl," said Lauren. "Boy, you lucked out, getting a pro for your mentor. He both of yours?"

"No, it's kind of… a personal relationship," said Finn. "We've got a lot of cool people who know stuff, though. Puck's actually staying with Carl's mentor right now."

That was probably the biggest surprise so far. "Oh, holy shit, you mean Tess Riordan?"

"Does everybody know Tess?" Kurt wondered, smiling. "Yes, he's at Tessera with his other Top and his — his Top's new slave."

"You guys are seriously in deep." She crossed her arms, looking at them with curiosity. "And this group relationship thing. I've heard of it, but never really saw it in action. Don't you get jealous?"

"Yeah," said Finn. "Jealousy's not even the hardest part of it."

That didn't make any sense. "So what is?"

"Knowing that my actions affect so many other people. Sometimes it's scary to think one thing I do could hurt — everybody at once."

Lauren had plenty of experience not being judgmental of other people's kinks. It wasn't hard to treat this as just one more of them. "I'm guessing people are consenting to being in this relationship, huh? So they know the risks."

"Doesn't mean it's not scary."

Kurt leaned in toward her. He looked so calm and relaxed. She was pretty sure she'd never seen him like that before. "What about you? How did you get involved?"

"I figured out what I liked after reading stuff on the Internet. So I found out about the events in the local areas. I made my dad drive me all the way to Cincinnati for their munch, but then I found out about the one in Columbus. So I started coming to that one, and I met Mistress Tib, and that was pretty much it."

Finn looked impressed. "That was really brave."

She shrugged. "People have been cool to me, even though I was young. I think because they were young once and wish they'd had somebody to talk to."

"I sometimes wonder," Kurt said. He paused, with an embarrassed laugh. "It's just… ever since I found out that this existed, all of it, I see signs of it everywhere. In people, situations, stories, movies, songs. I'm not sure how much of it I want to see and how much of it is really there."

"Probably some of each." Lauren stood up. "I'd better get home. This was totally hilarious. I won't tell anybody anything. If there's anything you don't want me to tell Puck's impressionable sister about, you'll have to let me know, because I pretty much believe in freedom of information."

"I think that's the way she grew up," said Kurt. "And probably why she trusts you to begin with. How about we stick with that."

* * *

It wasn't an unpleasantly long drive down to Columbus, but Carole appreciated the stamina Finn exhibited in being willing to make multiple drives back and forth between Lima and Westerville or Lima and Columbus, almost every week. She wasn't sure she was willing to do something like that — and glad she didn't have to consider it.

No, she'd met a good man, one who lived in her own town. One who was courageous and open-minded and funny. There wasn't much she wasn't getting from Burt.

And yet, here she was, making the drive anyway. It — well, it didn't exactly  _worry_  her, but it did make her wonder: what was she hoping to find at Irene's coffeehouse?

_Text me when you get there,_  Burt had said.  _And you're welcome to call me on your way back._

He clearly trusted her, not only to talk with Irene, but to come to him if she was unable to deal with anything on her own. It made her feel so fortunate to have a partner like that, and still just as confused as to her motives for seeking her out.

_I'm here,_  she sent.  _Loving you._

"You're fine," she told herself, and she only checked her hair once in the mirror before taking a deep breath and climbing out of her car.

Irene was present behind the counter, filling an order for a customer. When she made eye contact with Carole, waiting in line, she stayed calm, but her eyes sparked enough that Carole had a hard time maintaining her steady in-out of breath. She'd mostly calmed herself down by the time she made it to the front of the line.

"Can I get you something?" asked Irene. Her voice was melodic and patient. Carole tried to suppress her insecure laugh.

"I thought," she said, "if you have a little time to talk, I'd like to ask for some. Time, I mean."

Irene nodded. "Depending on how long you're willing to wait. I could give you ten minutes in a half hour, or in two hours I'm off for the afternoon."

"I brought my knitting," she said. "I can definitely fill two hours. And I'd like —" She paused, waiting.

Irene watched her. Then she set a glass of ice on the counter.

"I'd be happy to give you a lime soda," she said. "But you'll need to ask for it."

"I think something warm," Carole found herself saying, even though she'd absolutely been about to ask for a lime soda. "Green tea, please?"

This time Irene smiled. It was a real, actual Irene smile — not any different from the ones in her memories, but having it actually in front of her was another matter entirely. "I'll bring it to you when it's ready."

"Thank you," said Carole, when she could breathe again.

The coffeehouse was lovely, warm and well appointed without being ostentatious. The interior decoration wasn't Star Wars inspired, as Carole had half-expected when she'd heard about the name, but instead felt like nothing other than an indoor park, with cobblestone paths connecting benches and tables. The arched ceiling was painted to resemble the sky, and the walls were lined with tall hedges. Carole touched the foliage and smiled. Irene's office had been similar seventeen years ago, with her collection of bonsai trees, but it reminded her far more of her own greenhouse room at her grandparents' house, the one she'd lived in while she was pregnant with Finn.

At one end of the room was a low stage. Currently it was empty, but Carole could imagine Finn standing up there, singing into the microphone, or Kurt or Puck. It was remarkable how much talent they all had. She settled onto a bench facing the window, taking out her knitting and settling in to wait.

Time was comfortably fluid while she was knitting. She didn't even realize Irene was sitting beside her until she murmured, "Carole."

"Mmm," she said. She looked up, blinking, and caught her gasp before it left her mouth. "You startled me."

Irene chuckled, low and amused. "You always did fall into that space easily."

She tried not to be rattled by the comparison.  _Knitting calms me. It lets me stop thinking for a few minutes. …Yeah, it's pretty much the same thing._

"This, I can do in public," she said at last.

Irene laughed. Just she had in the hospital, the last time she'd heard Irene laugh, Carole found herself drowning in the sound. She fought to keep her eyes open.

"What are you making?" Irene asked.

"Socks. I only work on them occasionally, so it takes me a couple weeks to finish one, but it's small enough that I can take it with me. This one's just about done."

Irene nodded. "Plenty of socks to make. You have, what, eight feet in your household?"

"Fourteen, if you count me and the baby's," Carole said, smiling. "Finn, Kurt, Puck, Burt, Sarah, Beth and me."

"Kurt is Burt's son? And Puck and Sarah are siblings? How did they happen to join your crew?"

"It's not a very long story, but it's complicated."

"All the best stories are." Irene rose from the bench. She didn't say anything, but the expectation on her face was clear, that Carole would follow her. She wondered if she should feel annoyed at that expectation.

"I'll — should I take my own car?" she asked.

"That would be easiest. I'm about fifteen minutes northwest of here, in Upper Arlington. Let me give you my address."

Once Carole had it, she could take her time following, which was good, considering she didn't feel in any condition to drive. She sat in the front seat of her sedan, trying to compose herself and focus.

_All the tricks I ever learned to calm myself,_ she realized, _I learned from Irene. I still do them, even now._  Even though the thought wasn't calming, itself, the tricks worked well enough to get her out of the parking lot and onto the highway heading north.

Irene's home was nearly hidden from the road behind the overgrown yard. Carole pulled carefully into the bumpy gravel driveway and parked behind a black hatchback. It was quiet in the shade of the trees. She walked up to the cracked concrete porch and waited until Irene let her inside.

Finn had said  _on the mantle._  She tried not to make it look like she had a goal in mind, but when Irene brought her into the front room, she made her way over to the fireplace, surreptitiously scanning the photos in their frames. Sure enough, there she was.

"Carole Daniels, then," she said.

Irene stood beside her and looked up at the photo of Carole in its silver frame. "Yes."

"I don't have any pictures of you." Then she had another thought, and she looked around the room, searching. "Or any pictures of Finn. You had his baby book."

"Those were the only pictures you had?" Irene sounded appalled.

"No, I had a few, but I put all the ones my grandmother took in there." She watched with bated breath as Irene walked to a cabinet and opened the door, moving some things aside before sliding the white album out. She brought it over to the coffee table, holding it with both hands.

"You can take it home with you," she said. "I'd like to look through it with you first, though."

Carole nodded. They sat together on the narrow couch and placed the album across both their laps. Her leg was warm where Irene's pressed against hers.

The first picture was the one of Finn a few hours after he was born. Carole had a print of that one in Finn's baby book. She reached to turn the page, but Irene put a hand out, holding the page down.

"I remember watching you in the last half hour of labor," she said quietly, "and thinking how brave you were, how strong and focused. I don't think I've ever been more proud of any of my girls than I was at that moment."

It was impossible not to blush. "I didn't have much choice about what was happening," Carole said. "Trust me, if I'd been able to safe word out of that, I would have."

"You could have thrown a fit, though. You would have been justified. But you chose not to."

"Maybe I just didn't want to look weak in front of the nurses."

Irene's eyes were shining. "In front of somebody."

_In front of you._  That was the truth of it, of course. She hadn't given a damn about the nurses or her grandmother or even her sister Anne, who'd arrived unexpectedly four days before on Carole's due date and had found Carole kissing Irene in the neighbor's front yard. She'd only cared about Irene. And then after Finn was born, only about him.

She turned the pages one at a time, each photo recalling a flood of memories, every one tied to Finn and Irene and how they'd intersected. When she got to the first picture of Irene holding Finn, she stopped and gazed at it for a long time.

"We look so different," she said. "I'm so young here."

"Not much older than Finn is now," said Irene.

She looked up at her. "You know, I think that's what makes it so easy for me to treat him like an adult, to accept the adult things he's choosing for himself: because of how I felt about myself then. I'm still just as much an adult now as I was at nineteen. Nothing's really changed inside."

"Mmmm. I would suspect that's not exactly true." Irene touched the picture of herself, holding Finn. Her mouth was open, as though she'd been in the middle of saying something. He'd been too small to respond to her, but in the picture, he was definitely paying attention to her voice. "You've grown, as he has, but in less visible ways."

"That's true. I suppose I'm grateful for that." The next page showed Finn a little older, each one a milestone: smiling, holding up his head, reaching for objects. Irene wasn't in the pictures anymore. "It would have been hard to make the decisions on my own that affected my life, but… you were there. You helped me so much."

"I did what I could, Carole," Irene said. "I'm glad you found it useful."

She felt the words like a slap, whether or not they were meant that way. "Definitely more than useful," she said. Her voice shook. "Formative. Inspirational. Crucial."

When Irene let out a soft sigh, Carole pushed the book away to land on the table in front of them. She turned and put her arms around Irene. It wasn't the best example of asking for permission, but Irene was there to give it to her anyway, and to hold her steadily while she trembled. It didn't feel weak, when she did it with Irene. It just felt like the way it was supposed to be.

"You had a picture of me in a frame," she whispered, trying not to cry. "All this time, you had it there, where you could see it every day. I don't know why that means so much to me, but it does."

"Yeah, well." Irene sounded rueful. "I don't know what that says about me, exactly. I don't listen very well when people tell me to let them go."

"I'm glad you didn't let go," said Carole. "That's selfish of me, I know, but I wanted…"

Irene's hand felt so comforting, rubbing her back. "Hey. I know what you wanted. You wanted your freedom. That's what girls need. You shouldn't have said yes to me when I asked you to stay, and I knew it."

"Part of me wanted to. Part of me wanted everything you were offering." She reached for a tissue from the box next to the couch and wiped her eyes. "I hope you know that it wasn't that I didn't want it. That's not why I left."

Irene nodded. "Do you want to tell me why, then?"

Carole gave her a shaky smile. "I don't know if I really know, myself. I've got to assume it was because I was ashamed, on some level, about what you and I were doing. Something about who I was and who you are, class or race or gender, and being scared about how I would be perceived if we were together. I don't know which."

Irene nodded again, more thoughtfully. "I wasn't sure which of those it was, either." She placed her hands over and under one of Carole's, cradling it in both of hers. That gesture, still familiar after all these years, had always felt so protective. "Or, perhaps, that you didn't care to live — the way I live. In the scene, with that all around you."

Carole had to think about that for a moment. "No," she said. "No, I don't think that was it. I think I really liked that. Wanted that."

She raised a quizzical eyebrow. "But you don't have that now? You didn't choose that for yourself."

She watched Carole patiently as she considered the situation.

"I think  _wanted_  and  _needed_  were different," Carole said at last. "Still are. I wanted everything you offered me, but I needed… to feel at home in my environment. To know I understood where I was and what I could offer my son. To be an authority on my surroundings. I could have had that with you, but it would have taken a long time." She let herself look deep into Irene's eyes, to indulge herself in the giddy pounding of her own heart. "The other things… I wanted. Would have taken, gladly, if the situation had been different."

"You see your son seeking them out, now," said Irene.

"Yeah. That's —" She laughed. "Well, it's a lot of things. A little scary, but mostly… wonderful. When he came out to me, I thought,  _oh, that's another unexpected way he's like me._  And then this, with his best friend, the way he naturally took the dominant role, I was so proud when he realized that relationship for what it was. And then when he and Carl…" She reached for another tissue.

"Scary because he might get hurt?" Irene asked. She did not let go of Carol's hand.

"No. I'm not scared about that. Getting hurt is part of the process."

Irene smiled. "Maybe even part of the goal."

"Yes. I wasn't sure how to explain that to Burt. The first time he saw marks on his son's back… he was sure it was a sign of weakness, that Kurt wanted that. But I never saw it that way."

"Mmm." She leaned back a little. "Would you be willing to let me make an observation? With the understanding it's not at all impartial or nonjudgmental."

"Granted," Carole said, nodding. "Being here… there's no way it could be completely impartial for me either."

"Carole, you're saying you're proud of Finn for being like you, but those parts you're talking about, they're hidden. You're claiming an identity you don't express. That's your prerogative. But I have to call you on your double standard. Do you think you'd be just as proud if Finn decided to continue his life by marrying a girl and giving up the scene?"

She tried to listen past the judgment, and not to react to the implications. "I hope I would," she said. "I hope I would love him no matter what he chose."

"I'm not asking if you'd love him." Her face was serious. "I'm asking if you would be as proud."

"Irene, I'm  _lucky_  to have met Burt," she said. "He's a good man, and his son — I can't tell you how incredible it has been, the way they've all changed my life."

"I can see that," said Irene. "I'm not disagreeing with you. I'm asking you to consider, very carefully, if the reason you're with Burt — why you're choosing this family — is at least partially a reflection of your wish to do what your son is doing."

Carole swallowed angrily. "I'm not sure if I should accept that kind of question from you. I mean, I notice you haven't exactly moved on."

Irene actually smiled. "I acknowledge my preference for meaningful relationships has led me to go home alone most nights, although it's not like I've been celibate for a decade and a half. And I don't know Burt at all, so I can't pass judgment on him. Please, Carole, I need you to trust I'm not trying to break up your relationship."

"Well, good," she snapped. "Because I'm not going to let you."

"You're in control." Irene let go of her hand, holding up both of hers in a sign of surrender. She didn't look angry. Carole, however, was close to losing it. "Any time you want to continue this conversation, you know how to find me."

Irene stayed on the couch while Carole picked up the baby book and stalked toward the door.

"Carole."

She paused to look back at Irene. Neither of them was smiling now.

"Don't let your fears win," Irene said.

"I won't," Carole replied coldly.

She wasn't even all that angry, but it was something to hold on to, something to get her from the gravel driveway to the car and back onto the highway. She dialed Burt and put the phone to her ear with a sigh.

"I'm on my way home," she told Burt.

" _That wasn't very long."_ He paused.  _"Everything go okay?"_

"Yes. No. I don't know."

" _Should I pick one, or go with all of the above?"_

"It's been a long time. There's a lot of unspoken everything there, and now it's all… getting spoken." She wished she could put her head back and close her eyes. "I just want to come home."

" _Luke can't handle all the evening traffic at the garage, not without Puck, but I'll be there as soon as I can. It's going to be fine, okay?"_

"I know," she said. She put her phone away and kept the baby book in her lap all the way back to Lima.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first scene was excerpted from the beginning of chapter 11 of Breathing Room and was written by knittycat99. Thanks to ca-babs for inspiration for Finn's birthday present for Kurt. At the end, there is quoting from episode 3x14 On My Way. 
> 
> -amy

 

Finn opened the door to Java the Hut with a jingle of the bell that hung there, and he paused to let the air conditioning cool his skin. The surprise heat wave made him glad that school was almost out; sitting in hot classrooms trying to study for exams was already hard, and the distraction of Puck still being gone and Carl falling into -  _something -_ with Ms. P. He shook his head. He really didn't get that, but considering how many people he himself was juggling, he didn't have anything he could complain about.

Seeing Blaine there, waiting for him, should have calmed him down, but all it did was make him feel more anxious. He put a hand on Blaine's shoulder, in answer to his smile, and squeezed.

"There's something we need to talk about," he said quietly.

"Hello to you, too," said Blaine, quirking an eyebrow at him. "What's up?"

Finn pulled out the chair across from Blaine and sat down, leaning in close enough that their knees touched under the table. He dropped his voice even lower. "It's about what happened last week."

"I promised you it won't happen again, and it won't." Blaine's voice was defensive.

"I know," Finn said, resting his hand on top of Blaine's. "You're a good boy. But I think- you need something more than what I'm already giving you."

Blaine's eyes flicked around the half-empty coffeehouse. "Do you want something to drink?"

"You can't avoid having this conversation with me," Finn said with a wry smile.

"I'm not avoiding," Blaine replied. At Finn's raised eyebrow, he persisted. "I'm really not. I just think I need coffee, if we're really going to talk about this."

"Lime Italian soda, please." Blaine twisted his face and shook his head. "What? My mom's made them for me since I was a kid."

"I don't like lime," Blaine said with a grimace. "Too tart."

"More for me, then," Finn said with a shrug.

He drummed his fingers on the table while Blaine was busy at the counter, and he caught Irene giving him an odd look as she slid both drinks over to Blaine. Blaine set the Italian soda in front of Finn, and poked his straw into his iced mocha, taking a long sip.

"I think you need to come with me to Carl's office," said Finn. He watched Blaine's eyes grow large over his cup, then set his drink down, swallowing.

"Are you sure? I thought we were doing okay, just you and me."

Finn sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Yeah. Me too, but... last Friday, it was like, you were somewhere I didn't even know you could go, and it was all I could do to drag you back." He thought for a moment. "Remember how I was telling you about how what Carl does is different from what we do? How you... lose yourself, kind of, and be whatever he tells you to be?"

Blaine sighed and closed his eyes. Finn watched something clouded cross Blaine's features, he didn't know if it was relief or pain or… wanting?

"Yeah," Blaine said, eyes still closed. "I remember."

"Well, I think you might... need that." Finn watched him anxiously. "There's nothing wrong with that, Blaine. I just don't think I can do it. Like, I don't know how."

"And you think he can help? You think… would he teach us both how to do that?" He sounded almost hopeful, and Finn just wanted to wrap him up and hold him for hours, because he really was such a good boy, so willing and trusting.

"Maybe." He smiled, feeling encouraged by Blaine's faith in him. "Yeah, maybe he can? He's a good teacher. I've learned a lot from him."

There was a snort from the vicinity of the counter, but Finn wasn't sure if that was about him or not, so he ignored it.

"Where is he, anyway? I thought you guys had been working on something new." Blaine nudged his guitar case with his foot. "You can sing with me, if you want."

"I'd love that." The tension between them was gone, now. "Carl has a - well, I guess it's a date. He's been seeing this client, and I think it's turning into something more." His voice dropped. "It's a girl. Uh, a woman. That's a little weird."

"I bet," Blaine said with a little wrinkle of his nose. "No offense to you or anything, but girls are just gross."

Finn had to laugh at that, and he was pretty sure that, behind the espresso machine, Irene was laughing, too. "One of my boyfriends thinks the same thing about girls," he said, leaning back in his chair. "But - there was this one time... he wanted to know what the big deal was?" He grinned. "He tried dating this friend of his, and... it was just..." Finn shuddered. "Really wrong."

"I kissed a girl, once, but only because she made me." Blaine made another face, and there was something dark in his eyes, like the memory surrounding the kiss was a bad one. He didn't want to ask in public, but to his surprise Blaine kept talking. "My parents were fighting a lot, in middle school, and my best friend came over one night when I was freaking out, and she kissed me."

"Huh." Finn tilted his head. "Why do you think she did that?"

"Because I get all tangled up in my head sometimes, and she always knows how to help me when I'm like that. And, she's kind of pushy and she really likes sex, and she sometimes does things without thinking them all the way through."

Finn hesitated before saying, "There were these girls at my school, back in January... they decided I needed... uh, to lose my virginity?" He shook his head at Blaine's expression. "I mean, with girls."

Blaine gave him a grimace. "Really? How did... um. Did you..."

Finn waited as Blaine trailed off, letting him flounder for a few seconds before rescuing him. "I did, but it was totally awful. I think she felt bad that they couldn't... you know. Make it good for me. Like it was some kind of failure on her part that I'm not interested in her that way?"

"Then why are you with that girl you like, if girls don't do it for you?" Blaine toyed with the wrapper from his straw where it was curled on the table.

Finn took a long sip of his lime soda before replying. "It's not that they don't do it for me. I used to date girls, before I realized what was going on with me, and I liked them just fine... but this girl, we've always had something different. I'm not even sure how to explain why, but... when we sing together, there's something there. I kind of love her, you know?" He shook his head. "You're the first person I've said that to, besides her. Is that totally weird?"

Blaine shrugged. "I think I'm the last person you should ask about anything being weird. If you love her, that's great. If your boyfriends don't mind, why should anybody else care what it is that gives you those feelings?"

"They're not crazy about it, but they want me to be happy. And my — this girl, she wasn't crazy about the idea of me being with them, either, but... I think she's okay with it now." He smiled. "She's kind of odd. Most people at my school don't really like her. I think sometimes I'm the only one who sees what's amazing about her. And everybody deserves that, right?"

Blaine smiled warmly at Finn. "Yes," he said in a whisper. "You're really good at that, seeing underneath and into people. And... if you think that we need Carl to help us - to help me... then I think we should go."

Finn couldn't help himself. He leaned over and took Blaine into his arms and hugged him tight.

"That's my good boy," he murmured. "I promise, I'll take care of you."

* * *

"You haven't told me how Blaine's birthday present went?" asked Carl on the drive home.

Finn pretended to be distracted by carefully decelerating as they approached the Lima exit. "The concert? Yeah, we had a great time. We ended up taking Sarah and her best friend."

"I was actually talking about the collar."

"Oh, uh… yeah. I haven't given him that, but I had… some ideas about it. Actually, Kurt's birthday is coming up in a couple days. You're going to have to help me with that."

"I'm going to have to?" Carl asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I mean, I'd like it if you did. Please."

He was already grinning. "Of course I will, Finn. What did you have in mind?"

"Well, Kurt's pretty specific about gifts. As in he's been leaving hints about the exact coat he wanted for weeks. That was easy, but I also want to do something surprising for him. Romantic. And I was thinking… you know about Kurt's car in California, the one Adam got for him?"

"The 'Stang-and-a-half. Sure. What about it?"

"He has a thing for cars. I think it would be cool if I could get him something related to that. I just don't know what yet."

"Romantic and car-related." Carl sounded thoughtful. "Let me consider it for a few minutes."

"And, um." Finn wasn't sure how to bring up the second thing, but he'd been avoiding it the whole ride back, and now they were almost there. He decided he'd better just say it. "Can I make an appointment at your office for this weekend?"

"At the office?" He looked over at Finn. "You want to go up on the St. Andrew's Cross again? You're barely healed from the last session."

"No, not the — well, yeah, I  _would_  like to schedule a —" He took a deep breath. "For Blaine. This is for Blaine."

"Ah." Carl nodded, smiling. "I was wondering when you might make that decision."

Finn felt a wash of relief. "You think it's a good idea?"

"That's irrelevant, boy. It's up to you and  _your_  boy, whatever the two of you need."

_What the two of us need._ That was a good question, but Finn didn't see any way he could be sure of what Blaine needed until after they tried it. As for himself, that was a more complicated question, and he wasn't going to have that conversation with Carl in the car.

By the time they arrived in Carl's garage, Carl was rubbing his hands together. "All right. I have an idea."

* * *

The next day before lunch, Finn was waiting for Rachel outside the girls' bathroom, when he got lightly shoulder-checked by Dave Karofsky.

"Got a question for you," said Dave quietly. He raised an eyebrow. "Upstairs?"

"After lunch," Finn said. "Just knock."

He hadn't seen Dave upstairs in the attic room, with or without Kurt, not since that time Kurt had left Dave there to talk to him. It felt surprisingly okay to let Dave in and watch him lean against the closed door, taking a long, exhausted breath.

"Kind of nice to be out of the crazy, huh?" Finn asked.

"Yeah," Dave admitted. He sat down on the chair by the window and looked out over the parking lot. "It's harder to tolerate it when I know there's an alternative."

"I really get it. So what's your question?"

Dave looked embarrassed. "It's Kurt. He's been… well, I don't even know what to say about how he's been to me.  _Nice_  isn't exactly right."

"No, that's cool. You don't have to explain."

"I guess he's my friend. Which is maybe a little fucked up, considering how I treated him. But I figure you would get it." He looked at Finn with a raised eyebrow.

"Kurt's really generous, but he's no pushover. Whatever he's doing, you can bet he's got a solid reason. He knew what he was doing when he helped me figure out my thing with Puck, back at the beginning." Finn had to smile. "Really, he helped me figure out a lot more than that."

Dave looked curious despite himself. "You guys hooked up? Was that when he was on the football team?"

"No, it was after. But I think by then he trusted me not to be an asshole anymore. I didn't know for sure how he felt about me until I realized I felt the same way. And by then Puck was in it too."

"The three of you in that janitor's closet…" Dave shook his head. "I gotta say, that was stupid. You took some pretty big risks."

"Yeah, we  _were_  stupid, and desperate. That was before we got permission to do stuff behind closed doors at my house and Kurt's house."

Dave's eyes bugged out. " _Permission._ That is just seriously fucked up."

Finn shrugged. "My mom said she'd rather have us home than in the car or at some motel. And we had to do some awkward negotiating about… the other stuff. Kurt's dad's still not all that okay with it, but he's not going to kick us out."

"Yeah, the other stuff." Dave smiled faintly at him. "Really not what I came here to talk about. I want to give Kurt something for his birthday."

"Oh." Finn blinked at him.

"Yeah," he said, sounding gruff. "I just figured with Puck out of town, maybe he'd have… that I could…" He shook his head in exasperation. "Fuck. I just need to know if he's busy on Saturday night?"

"I doubt it. I've got something planned for him after school on Thursday, but that's it."

"Oh. Well, okay, then." Dave looked relieved. "It's not a big thing or anything. I just wanted to give him something. Show him something."

"Hey, whatever, you don't have to explain. It's fine." Finn waved his hands noncommittally. "You guys do… whatever you want to do."

Dave glared at him. "It's not like  _that._  Jesus. He's  _got_  a boyfriend.  _You."_

"Dude, he's got three boyfriends. Kurt gets to have anything he wants, with anybody he wants. We're not going to get in his way. And I kind of can't believe I'm saying this, but unless you're actually the asshole you've been pretending to be for the past year, instead of the guy I remember from when we were kids, I think  _you_  get to have anything you want too."

"Uh, no. I definitely don't get everything I want." Dave gave a bitter laugh. "He doesn't want me."

Finn realized who Dave was talking about. "You mean Blaine."

Finn thought Dave might shut down entirely at the sound of his name, but he just nodded. "I've always meant Blaine," he said quietly. "But  _he's_  with you, too."

Finn watched Dave staring out the window. He sighed to himself. "I'm not Blaine's boyfriend."

"What do you mean? Believe me, I saw the way he looked when he told me about you. He practically worships you."

_Yeah,_  thought Finn. _I practically worship him too._  "I don't think you want details. He's not into me that way. Or at least he turned me down when I offered it."

Dave sat quietly for a moment before making a derisive snort. "What, is that supposed to make me feel better? At least you don't get  _all_  the guys? I mean, fuck, you've got Kurt and  _Puckerman."_

"I have a lot," Finn agreed. "You can hate me or whatever. I wouldn't blame you either way."

"I don't  _hate_  you," said Dave, through gritted teeth. His voice was rising. "I don't hate Blaine. I don't hate anybody!"

"Well, don't hate yourself, either," said Finn. "Kurt would be pissed at you if he heard you talking that way. You want to give him a birthday present? Try that one."

"What do you fucking care," he muttered.

Finn laughed. "Really? You think I'd be here at all if I didn't care?"

Dave didn't answer. Finn came over to where Dave was sitting and crouched down beside him, so Dave didn't have a choice but to see him.

"Look," he said. "I know this is awkward. But somebody taught me that it's important for guys like you and me to have other guy friends. Other  _gay_  friends. We need that, because nobody taught us rules about how we're supposed to be with one another. We have to learn from each other."

Dave's face was pink. He grimaced. "I should have expected that kind of fucking self-help advice from the quarterback."

"Yeah, well, words are probably safer. You wouldn't like to hear about how we usually deal with sucky feelings."

"No?"

"I'm thinking not." He shrugged. "It's… all that stuff we did in the janitor's closet."

Dave hid behind one hand, fending Finn off with the other. "No. Thank you, just… no."

"Like I said. But whatever, I think you're not an asshole. I also think, even if Blaine isn't gonna be your boyfriend, you've still got a chance to get him back as a friend."

"Yeah, well, he said —"

"I know what he said," said Finn gently.

Dave looked at him, finally, perplexed. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm trying to help you."

"You're trying to weird me the fuck out." He scrambled to his feet. "And it's working."

"I'm not your opponent!" Finn protested. "Nobody's fighting over anybody, okay? Whatever Blaine wants,  _he_  gets to ask for that, too. So far it doesn't look like it's going to be either one of us."

Dave paused by the door. "So?"

"So maybe for Kurt's sake, you and I can try to get along?"

When Dave didn't answer this time, Finn sat back onto the edge of the mattress and sighed.

"Never mind. Have fun on Saturday, whatever you're doing."  _In the meantime, I'll be in my mentor's office, watching him beat Blaine into submission._

* * *

Thursday after school, Kurt met him by the Navigator, waiting until Finn came up beside him on the driver's side.

"Now what?" he asked.

Finn grinned. "Now give me the keys, get in the passenger side and buckle up. We're going for a little ride."

Kurt giggled through the whole thing. "Did your mom pick up the package from the FexEx office?"

"It's waiting for us at home, along with everything else."

He smoothed the belt of his sweater, obviously pleased. "Not  _everything_  else. I've always wanted a Dolce & Gabbana coat."

Finn frowned. "I'm pretty sure that wasn't the name on the web site."

"No, Finn; an actual Dolce & Gabbana coat would have cost you twenty-five hundred dollars. This is the next best knockoff."

He gulped. "Uh… yeah. You sure know how to spend money on clothes."

"Priorities, Finn. Some things matter more than others. I love this just as much as the one with the label on it." He bounced in the seat. "Now, tell me, where are we going?"

"It's that  _surprise_  thing you don't do so well at, isn't it?"

While they drove home, Kurt got a text that made him pause and smile.

"Is it Adam?" Finn asked.

"No, actually, it's Dave. Wishing me a happy birthday. He's been very nice to me lately."

He nodded. "He's not exactly sure why you're being so nice to  _him._  Or me, actually."

"Why I'm being so nice to you?" Kurt said.

"No, why I'm being so nice to him."

"Because you're on my side." Kurt sounded very confident of this. "I know you won't just go along with what I want because I want it, but I also know you trust my judgment. Just as I trust yours. Why do you think I'm being friends with Rachel?"

"Yeah, that's… still kind of weird for me too." Finn reached out for Kurt's hand and held it as he drove. "She hasn't gone into detail with me about why things are suddenly different. There's just been a lot of kissing. I gotta think she decided being my girlfriend was okay after all, even though I'm with you guys. Only… now  _I'm_  not sure I want that."

"Because of who Carl is," Kurt said. Finn nodded. "Yes, well, I can understand why that would feel a little strange, to be dating a parent and his daughter at the same time."

"Carl's known all along that I was doing that," he said. "And he got through it. I figure it'll just take me a little time. It's mostly that I don't like the lying. Like, I know she wouldn't be cool with that if she knew, and I wouldn't want to put her in the position to accidentally find out."

When they got to the house, Finn put the car in park and ran into the front hallway to pick up the FedEx box. He loaded it into the back, then went back for the rest of the supplies.

"No peeking, now," he called, and Kurt obliged by closing his eyes.

"Is it far away?" Kurt asked.

"Not very. Just relax, okay?"

"I don't do that without a little persuasion, if you recall."

Finn laughed. "You want me to tie you up when we get there? Or are you willing to wait until tonight for that?"

He delighted in Kurt's shiver. "I'm willing if you don't mind me being a little excited."

It only took a half hour to get to the park on the north shore of St. Marys State Park. Finn parked the Navigator and came around to open Kurt's door, helping him out.

"The beach isn't open yet," said Finn, "but the park is, and it should be pretty empty."

Kurt looked around curiously. "What are we doing here?"

"Well, there's a couple things, but the first one is… there he is."

They both watched as Carl's red Corvette pulled up alongside the Navigator. Carl stepped out, smiling at Kurt, and held out a small wrapped box.

"Happy birthday, Kurt."

Kurt hesitated only a moment before hugging Carl. "You're really sweet."

"He's not, really," Finn stage-whispered. He was grateful nobody else was around to see Carl swat his ass through his jeans.

Kurt just grinned, shaking his head, and unwrapped the box. When he opened it and found a key inside, he paused, looking confused.

"You didn't get me a car, did you?"

"Not really. I did get you a ride in a very nice one, though." He gestured at the Corvette. "Be my guest. I'll be here when you get back."

Kurt made a delighted squealing noise and climbed right into the driver's seat, adjusting the mirrors and the tilt of the steering wheel and checking all the gauges. Finn glanced around them one more time, then leaned in to kiss Carl firmly on the mouth.

"You're getting a little cheeky there, my boy," Carl murmured to him.

"I'm not going to push it, sir." He handed Carl the Navigator keys. "Everything's in the back. Thank you again."

"No thanks necessary. Let me get my bag out of the back and then you two can be on your way. Remember, stay on —"

"I know, 127 going south," he said. "The newly paved highway. Kurt will take good care of your baby."

Carl's eyes flashed. "I trust you."

Kurt was practically hyperventilating with excitement. "It's a 6.2 liter V-8," he said, "430 horsepower. They redesigned it in 2008. Six gears!"

"I've driven it, baby," said Finn, grinning. "Let me tell you how to get to 127 from here. You can take it all the way south to Greenville."

"Oh my god. This is better than Prada."

"Does that mean I should take back the —?"

"No! What? You got me Prada!?" Kurt looked up at him in surprise, then exhaled in disgust at the grin on Finn's face. "Brat."

"Yeah, maybe. You're a lot of fun to buy for. I did look at those moleskin trousers you showed me, but the jacket cost way too much."

Kurt accelerated smoothly, with no hiccups, out of the park and onto 29 heading west toward the highway. He talked about the 2008 Corvette for a long time, and Finn tried really hard to be a good listener, making  _mmhmm_  noises and saying  _oh, really?_  where it seemed appropriate. Eventually Kurt paused for a breath.

"I lost you, didn't I?" he asked.

"Back when you were talking about the intake valves," Finn said.

"Intake ports. I'm sorry, I just… this is a really amazing car."

"I totally agree. It's super fast and fun to drive."

"More than that. Do you know about the dual-mode exhaust system?"

This time Kurt only went for a little while before running out of steam, then switched to talking about axle ratios for a while until they saw the signs for Greenville. He pulled off to turn around return north.

"Should I fill up the tank or something?" Kurt asked.

"Baby, it's your birthday. This was fun for Carl. He doesn't get people geeking out about his car very often. Even the guys at Tessera prefer vintage models."

"Well, so do I, but that doesn't mean it's not amazing to drive a car that can go zero to sixty in four seconds." He did that, or something close to that, as they reentered the flow of sparse afternoon traffic on 127 going north, giggling all the way. "Wow."

"I always get so turned on when I do that," Finn said.

"Finn, not while I'm  _driving,_ " Kurt insisted. "Especially not somebody else's car." Then, five seconds later, he added, "Okay, yes. Me too."

"So my second present next," said Finn, "then Adam and Puck's, and then my third present. And then we can go home."

"And I can climb all over you and kiss you a lot?" Kurt suggested.

"I would totally go along with that."

Carl was waiting beside the Navigator as though he'd never left, although Finn knew he'd been busy while they'd been gone. He accepted the key from Kurt with a wide smile. "How'd she handle?"

"You know, I'd read about the deficit in the steering in the past, back when it was rack-and-pinion, but I didn't really find the new system to be —" Kurt paused, looking at Finn. "Um. It was amazing. We can talk about it later."

"Yes. Of course. Have a good evening, both of you. Finn, I'll see you Saturday."

"You're going to Columbus?" Kurt asked as Carl drove away.

"No, I think we have other plans with Patrick," Finn said. "At Carl's office."

"Oh." Kurt slipped a hand in his as they walked toward the park. "Are you going to — this is the collaring?"

Finn chuckled nervously. "You make it sound so serious."

"I think it is serious, Finn. I feel a little strange I've never met this boy who's so important to you. Do you think he might agree to come to the house, once it's built? Meet all of us?"

"I could ask him," Finn said, nodding. He wondered what it would be like for Kurt to discover that Blaine was  _Dave's_  friend, too. There were too many coincidences happening for Finn to keep track of them all. He gestured ahead of them. "Here."

Kurt made very rewarding happy noises when he saw the picnic blanket and the containers of food. "Was this Sarah?"

"She did most of the prep, but Puck sent the recipes. Don't tell mom; she thought she was in charge, but Sarah went back and changed some of the dishes."

"I'll be sure to thank her anyway." Kurt knelt on the blanket and opened up the containers, tasting and exclaiming over them all. When he looked up and saw the FedEx box beside them, he paused, looking questioningly at Finn. "Is that…?"

"That's from Tessera."

Finn stripped off the tape and removed the packing material, carefully lifting the contents out and setting them on the blanket. The first was a small box and the second an envelope, which Kurt reached for, but the third was the cake.

"Oh, wow," Kurt breathed. He reached out and touched the smooth fondant on the top layer. "This is so beautiful. Either Noah's improved, or…"

"Puck said something about the pastry chef at Tessera helping out," Finn said. "What did Adam send?"

Finn put food on plates, trying not to mourn the lack of meat, while Kurt ripped open the envelope. He squealed. "I was hoping this was what it was."

"Tickets to one of the Glam Nation concerts?" asked Finn.

"Not tickets. The first show in Ohio is Toledo on June 8, but Dad already told me I can't go on a school night. So, a pass to get into his hotel, and an invitation to dinner with the band."

Next, Kurt peeled the glittery wrapping paper off the box. He lifted the lid on the flat box, too big to be a jewelry box, and gasped. "Finn… remember how we were talking about Gucci?" He pulled out a brown suede belt with an interlocking G buckle.

"Cool." Finn resolved not to feel too outclassed by Adam's gift. "You want the pine nut rice thing or the grape salad thing?"

They ate for a while, Kurt snuggled up close to him. There was literally nobody else in the park, not that Finn would have cared this far away from town, but it made it very easy to feel comfortable being demonstrative. He even gave Kurt a few chaste kisses between bites of dinner.

"Okay." Finn took a drink of soda and smiled at Kurt. "So here's the last part. Remember when the boys in Glee were doing KISS?"

"Yes, Finn," said Kurt, smiling back. "I remember. You wore Gaga's red dress and called me your queen. Which, I have to say, is the oddest, sweetest compliment anyone has ever paid me."

"Well, it's true." He reached for Kurt's hands, waiting for him to put down his fork before taking them. "We've got this kind of promise happening, the three of us. And Puck, we have a collar for him. But we don't really have anything for just you and me."

"Finn," Kurt said, but Finn touched his hand, and he quieted, watching Finn with wide eyes.

"I'm not… you know, proposing or anything like that." He smiled more widely at the blush on Kurt's face. "Not today. I'm just saying, even if we've got this relationship that's more than just the two of us, that doesn't mean the two of us isn't important. I know it's only been, um…" He took a deep breath. "Seven months and thirteen days. But I'm —"

"Wait, wait. Seven months? Since when?"

"Since the, uh. You know, when we… that sleepover? With the pizza, and the Scott Pilgrim, and the… sex in your guest room bed. Which is now Sarah's room, and I really don't want to think about having sex in Sarah's bed."

"It's not her room for much longer." Kurt was laughing. He leaned forward and kissed Finn. "Okay. Yes. Go on."

"So, I wanted you to have something that was just for us. But it had to kind of, you know, be easy to hide." Finn let go of Kurt's hands and dug into the bag next to the picnic blanket, the one holding the CD player, and found the little white box he'd stashed there. He handed it to Kurt. "Here. If you hate it, we can take it back."

Kurt wiggled the lid off the box. It was plenty small enough to be a jewelry box this time, because that was what it was. Finn let out a relieved breath at the way Kurt's eyes lit up at its contents. Kurt turned the box over and let the anklet spill out into his hand.

"It's not a lot of, you know. Whatever those things are. Carrots."

"Finn," said Kurt. He sounded more surprised than pleased. "You bought me diamonds."

"Just little ones." Finn waited as long as he could stand before reaching out to take it from Kurt's hands. "See, they're little silver beads in between. So it's not actually all that many, um, diamonds." He chewed on his lip, watching Kurt's face. "Do you hate it?"

"Where would you imagine me wearing it?"

"It's an ankle thing. You would wear it… under your sock. Against your skin." He undid the clasp. "It had to be kind of sparkly for you. Not a crown, but… almost. Baby, say something, I'm dying here."

Kurt reached out and put his arms around Finn, cupping his neck in one hand. He kissed Finn's neck, then his face, then his mouth, passionately. Finn didn't worry about any of the people who might be watching and just kissed him back.

"I don't think there's any way you can give somebody diamonds and not have it mean something, Finn," Kurt said. His voice was hoarse. "Can you tell me… what you were thinking? And I don't mean I hate it. I don't hate it at all. I'm just… I want to be sure."

Finn nodded. "Can I have you here in my lap while I'm talking about this? More touching would help."

Kurt sat on him and nestled in close against his chest. It wasn't like the way he held Blaine. Finn knew Kurt wanted to be held tight, tighter than he would have thought was comfortable. He made his arms into bonds, and wrapped him up, and felt Kurt's relieved sigh.

"Kurt, I think the only reason why I haven't asked you to marry me yet is because my mom would kill me."

Kurt's laugh was breathless. "I think my dad would kill you first."

"Yeah. So I trust them, and knowing they would think it was a stupid idea… and it probably would be, I guess I know that too. But I still want to. I've wanted to for… a long time. Both you and Puck."

"Wow." That was all Kurt said, but Finn just nodded, kissing the side of his face.

"You don't need to give any answers to my not-proposing. Because I'm thinking we'll all change a lot over the next couple years and I don't really know how? But I know how much I've changed in the last seven months, and… god, that's a lot. So if the next seven months are anything like that, I probably should wait and see what happens before I do any proposing."

"Okay," said Kurt. "That… sounds fair."

Finn exhaled. "But I would kind of like you to think of that anklet as… a promise. There's promise rings, right? I would totally get you one of those, but people would talk. I just couldn't think of anything else. I guess you could wear a toe ring, but I kind of think they're gross."

"No, Finn, this… this is perfect."

"Really?" The eager word slipped out, and they both laughed. "Yeah, maybe I'm not acting so much in charge right now."

"Finn, you know that doesn't matter with me." Kurt turned in his hold to look up at Finn, his eyes adoring. "You know I love you. I love what we do, you and me, and you and me with Noah. And I would be so, so proud to wear your ring someday, and in the meantime, this is just fine."

"Yeah?" He was smiling big enough to split his face now. "Wow. Really? You said yes?"

"You didn't ask me anything yet," Kurt reminded him. But he kissed Finn, and it really did feel like a  _yes._

"Okay. That's… that's great. Can I put it on you?"

He waited while Kurt climbed out of his lap and rolled down his left sock. After three tries, he managed to fasten it. He didn't even pinch his leg hair or anything. Then he had to hug him and kiss him again.

"Wow," he said. "So this is what it feels like to not be engaged."

"Not even a little bit," agreed Kurt.

After they'd put away the food, Finn took his hand and led him over to a picnic table under the trees. He stood in front of him, setting the CD player on the grass.

"I'm really going to have to learn guitar or something," he said. "This karaoke track business feels so amateur next to you and Puck and Adam. But, whatever."

"You're a drummer, Finn," said Kurt. "You get other people to accompany you."

"Not when it's just two of us. Then, I need to be able to stand here on my own and give you… whatever you need." He bent down and pressed play. Kurt was already crying, and Finn shook his head, laughing. "Baby, you're throwing me off my game. I mean, you don't even know what I'm singing yet."

"It doesn't matter," Kurt said, wiping his eyes. "It's you. It's always been you."

"Yeah." Finn smiled, knowing he looked like a total dork, but not caring about that either. "Hang on, I missed my cue." He started the track over again.

"In keeping with sappy eighties ballads," Kurt murmured. He leaned back on the picnic bench and watched Finn, his eyes half-lidded. "Can I just say how hot you look when you perform them?"

"Dammit, Kurt, I missed it again!" Finn knelt down to fiddle with the CD player as Kurt laughed. "You just want me down on my knees."

"Maybe one knee," he said. "No, no, I wasn't being serious… Finn!"

"Too late." Finn stayed where he was, starting the track over a third time, propped up on one knee like every guy in every proposal in every movie he'd ever seen. This time, he took a deep breath, and sang:

http://youtu.be/d_RKO5ozLVo

_I gotta tell you what I'm feeling inside, I could lie to myself, but it's true_   
_There's no denying when I look in your eyes, boy, I'm out of my head over you_   
_I lived so long believing all love is blind  
_ _But everything about you is telling me this time_

_It's forever, this time I know and there's no doubt in my mind  
_ _Forever, until my life is thru, boy, I'll be loving you forever_

Kurt listened, his face flushed and one hand over his mouth. Whatever he needed to do to get through the song was okay. Finn wasn't going to stop him. He was pretty sure all KISS songs forever after this were going to be tearjerkers, and especially the ballads.

_I hear the echo of a promise I made_   
_When you're strong you can stand on your own_   
_But those words grow distant as I look at your face_   
_No, I don't wanna go it alone_   
_I never thought I'd lay my heart on the line  
_ _But everything about you is telling me this time_

_It's forever, this time I know and there's no doubt in my mind  
_ _Forever, until my life is thru, boy, I'll be loving you forever_

Kurt sang harmony the second time through the chorus, which made it sound a lot better with the karaoke track. It was even more sappy when they were both singing to one another, but Finn didn't feel like he wanted to cry. He just wanted to sing for Kurt, a lot, for the rest of his life.

A girl with a dog on a leash came running through the park as he finished the second verse. She didn't exactly stop to look, but she slowed way, way down. Finn tried to ignore her and focus on Kurt. This was for him.

_I see my future when I look in your eyes  
_ _It took your love to make my heart come alive  
_ ' _Cause I lived my life believing all love is blind  
_ _But everything about you is telling me this time_

Kurt either hadn't noticed the girl with the dog, or he didn't care, because as soon as the third chorus was over, he was on his feet and kissing Finn with as much passion and enthusiasm as he could muster.

"That's the most amazing not-proposal I could imagine," he whispered. "You're going to have to do it all again someday with a ring, okay?"

"Oh, no way," said Finn. "Whatever I do next has got to be better."

The girl was walking backwards now, watching them with an obviously pleased smile on her face. Finn gave her a little wave, and she gave him the thumbs up sign before turning and continuing on with her run, her dog's leash in her hand.

"I think I want to go home now," Finn said. "There's a very empty bed in your room with some very useful O-rings drilled into the headboard."

"Oh, wow." Kurt's laugh was low and sexy enough to make Finn groan. "I'm going to give you a moment to rethink the uses of the words  _bed,_   _drill_  and  _ring_  in that sentence."

Finn considered this as they returned to the Navigator with armloads of food containers, the picnic blanket, the half-eaten cake (it had been delicious) and the CD player. Kurt took the keys and climbed into the driver's seat.

"While I sit on your  _bed,_ " said Finn, grinning, "would you give me a personal performance of that "should'a put a  _ring_  on it" dance? Uh — before I tie you up and  _drill_  you. Assuming you still want that."

Kurt was laughing so hard, he almost couldn't speak. "It's called  _Single Ladies,_ " he managed at last. "And I would be honored. Both the dancing and the drilling."

"Sweet," said Finn, settling back. "Birthday present for me."

* * *

"Carole?" called Kurt. He paused beside the chair where she was sitting. "Where's Finn?"

"I think he's with Carl and Patrick," she said. "Practicing?"

"Oh, yes." Kurt had some guess about what they were doing at Carl's office, and it wasn't practicing, but he didn't need to have that conversation with Carole at the moment. "I wanted to ask him about this text I got from Dave. I suppose I'll have to figure it out on my own."

He showed it to her. It read,  _When you're ready, come to Schoonover and meet me outside._

"Outside where?" he said. "The pool is still closed until Memorial Day."

"Well, there's the observatory. Maybe he means that?"

"Oh! Of course that's it." Kurt replied,  _The observatory?_

_Yeah?_

_Be there in five._

"He's going to space camp," he said to Carole. She smiled, but her face was a little concerned.

"I think it's really nice what you're doing for Dave, but I'm wondering how you came to trust him, after everything he did to you, and Finn and Puck."

"It was because I realized why he was doing it," said Kurt. "And how I could get him not to do it anymore was to trust him. To show him he was worth more than that. Which, I think, is the human condition. We're capable of awful, horrible things, and we're also capable of great nobility. Dave has all of that inside him, but I think, based on his friendship with Finn, he's more the latter than the former."

She hugged him. "You're a very generous young man, Kurt."

"Dave's made it very easy for me to be generous," he said, hugging her back. "I feel — lucky, really. I always wanted a gay friend."

"One you weren't sleeping with, you mean."

He sputtered a laugh. "Okay, yes. That was what I meant. Anyway, I'm not assuming he won't struggle a little with being friends, but I think I can handle it."

"You definitely can. And you'd better go, if you're going to meet him at the observatory."

When he arrived, Dave was standing on the steps leading up into the north wall. Other than Dave's car, the parking lot was empty. He beckoned Kurt closer.

"I'm guessing you've never been here before," he said. Kurt shook his head. "I know you're not a geek about space like I am, but I still think you're going to like this. We've got a 14-inch Celestron telescope. It's not as cool as the original 12.5 Newtonian Cassegrain, though. The members of the Lima Astrological Society ground the optics themselves, back in the sixties."

"That means less than nothing to me," said Kurt, following him up the stairs. Dave grinned.

"It's fine. I keep the keys for the observatory because my dad's the treasurer. The first Saturday, there's a meeting and a lecture, but the other Saturdays, it's empty. I hang out here a lot."

Kurt looked around the large round room. "Of course you do."

"Hey, it's quiet. And nobody judges me. Ahem." He shouldered Kurt aside and positioned himself in front of the enormous telescope, taking his glasses off to put his eye up to the aperture.

"That looks a lot bigger than fourteen inches."

The incredulous look Dave shot him made him giggle. "The OTA on the Celestron is almost forty inches long."

"Sorry, I was just… as soon as I asked that, my mind went other places." He waited while Dave did things to the telescope. Finally Dave put his glasses back on and moved out of the way.

"Take a look," he said.

Kurt wasn't sure what he expected to see through the aperture, but the beautiful spray of pink and purple and blue against the darkness of the sky wasn't it.

"Ohhh," he said. "What is it?"

"The Triangulum galaxy," said Dave. "It's about three million light years away. Those H-II regions, the really bright patches, are bunches of stars being born. I figured it was appropriate for your birthday."

Kurt didn't want to look away, but he had to pause to wipe his eyes. "That's amazing. Thank you so much. This is a perfect birthday present."

"Well, actually, I got you something else."

Kurt realized Dave was holding a wrapped gift out to him. He stopped looking through the telescope and took the package.

"You really didn't need to," he said.

"I wanted to." Dave was smiling awkwardly. "I… really appreciate what you did for me. I don't want to keep apologizing, because I know that kind of gets old, but…"

"You don't have to, no." Kurt set the package down on the floor and hugged Dave. Dave went completely rigid and stood there for a good five seconds before he put his arms around Kurt and hugged him back. "You deserve all of it."

"I really don't know what that means," Dave said. "To deserve something from another person."

"I don't know either, really."

Dave seemed so uncomfortable that he let him go and stood beside him.

"Do you know the difference between a constellation and an asterism?" Dave turned and pointed at the sky, where the Big Dipper was visible. "Ursa Major's a constellation, but the Big Dipper is an asterism. It's a group of stars within a constellation, which is just a region of the sky. Or it might span more than one constellation. So constellations are official, accepted, and authorized, while asterisms are more based on local opinion. In Britain, they call the Big Dipper the Plough." He crossed his arms, hugging his elbows across his broad chest. "I always felt like it was a pretty stupid difference. Like, who says people who lived in the recent past get to decide what counts as a  _real_  constellation and what doesn't? It's like a popularity contest."

Kurt bent down and picked up the package again. "Do you want me to open this now, or take it home?"

Dave looked down and seemed to realize what Kurt was holding. "Oh. Yeah — uh, open it now. I mean, if you want to."

"I want to," said Kurt. He tore off the paper. Inside were three thick paperback books. The first one had a picture of a girl riding a white bear.  _Northern Lights,_  it said on the cover.

"It's the British cover," he said. He looked so awkward, Kurt wanted to hug him again, but that was obviously going to make him more uncomfortable. "In the US, the first book is called  _The Golden Compass,_  so most people call it that. They have this really cool race of intelligent bears called panserbjørne."

"Intelligent bears." Kurt had to smile.

"Heroic armored bears," he added. "Seriously, you read the first book. Iorek Byrnison is the best thing in there."

"I will. Thank you." He looked up at the sky above the observatory. "This place is amazing. I can't believe it was in my backyard all this time and I didn't even know."

"Yeah, Lima's kind of a weird place like that."

"You think you might want to bring your kids here someday? To use the telescope?"

Dave looked startled by the question. "I — I don't know if I'll ever have kids."

"What do you think, though? Do you want them? Can you see yourself being happy here?" He tucked the books under his arm and crumpled up the wrapping paper. "I asked you before about what winning would look like to you. Are kids part of that? What about Lima?"

"I don't know how to figure that out," Dave said. He sounded sad and lost.

"Well, can you imagine it? Come on, try it. Back in November, Finn and Noah and I, we did this exercise where we imagined what our lives might be in ten years. You read all the time, so you must be able to imagine things. Close your eyes."

Dave did. Kurt watched him standing there in the middle of the room with his eyes closed, completely vulnerable to anything that might happen. Putting himself in Kurt's control. It was humbling.

"You're sitting in a fantastic office. You're some kind of successful professional."

"A professor," Dave murmured. "Of astrophysics."

"Sure. You're a professor, living in whatever city you want to be in. Your handsome partner comes to visit you in your office." He watched Dave's face relax a little. "He brings along your son."

"Mmm." Dave nodded, his eyes still closed. "He's three."

"That's right. You're taking the rest of the day off work because you're taking your son to his first football game."

"Hockey game," said Dave.

"Hockey game, of course. You lean over to your partner, and you say…"

"I'm so happy right now," Dave whispered. His eyes opened, and he looked right at Kurt, as thought he were startled to see him there. Kurt smiled, and after a moment, he smiled back.

"Thank you," said Kurt. "For the birthday present. And all of this."

This time, Dave was the one who reached out and hugged Kurt. It was a little awkward with Kurt holding the stack of thick books, but significantly less awkward than the first hug had been.

"You're so welcome," said Dave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While Kurt is at the observatory with Dave, Finn and Blaine are in Carl's office. Finn gives Blaine his collar, and they have a very intense scene together, which comes to an uncertain conclusion. Read it in [the final chapter of Breathing Room](http://archiveofourown.org/works/524843/chapters/940014).
> 
> Song credit: "[Forever](http://youtu.be/d_RKO5ozLVo)" by KISS, copyright 1989.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toby and Will go to Denver for Pride and to pick up Toby's dog Annie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally published in 2012 as a stand-alone futurefic. Like most of the Toby/Will, it was co-written by myself and knittycat, but there are some additions and changes, including the appearance of a recurring character. Annie was my dog, long ago, the best dog ever, and this story is dedicated to her. Enjoy! 
> 
> -amy

 

When Will let himself into Toby's house on Friday night after school, he discovered Toby sitting in the kitchen with his laptop, pricing tickets to Denver.

"What's wrong with celebrating pride in Columbus?" Will asked halfheartedly. He unloaded Chinese containers onto the counter and pulled plates out of the cupboard. He was too hungry to argue.

"Nothing's wrong with Pride in Columbus. I just think we'd have more fun if we went to Denver." Toby clicked his mouse a couple of times, and Will swung around him with a dish of mu shu chicken and Mongolian beef.

"I think  _you'd_  have more fun." Will placed a gentle kiss on the top of Toby's head and positioned the plate at his elbow.

"Pride is all about community, darlin', and my community ain't in Columbus. And since you don't have a community to speak of, I think we should go to the last place I had my community." He let his finger hover over the touchpad on his laptop. "We can fly out Friday and back on Monday, and we can stay with Tom and Eric. They live two blocks from the parade route. And it would give me a chance to pick up Annie and fly her back to Ohio."

Will lowered himself into the chair next to Toby and sighed. "I'm not going to win this, am I?"

Toby shook his head and smiled before clicking to purchase the tickets. "No, darlin', you ain't." He rubbed his hands together. "We're goin' to Denver for Pride!"

* * *

Will watched Toby's friend Tom hoist the cooler filled with drinks into the wagon, then lift a squealing Brian over the edge to sit beside it.

"Don't stand up," he cautioned.

"I won't, Papa." Brian pushed his fine brown hair out of his eyes and took the sunglasses Tom held out. It took him two tries to settle them on his chubby face. He waved frantically. "I'm ready! Let's go, let's go, let's go!"

Will chuckled, and barely hesitated when Toby reached for his hand. Toby pulled him close.

"It's safe here," said Toby. "Especially this weekend."

"It's just hard to get used to," Will said, glancing up and down the street. "It's different at the theater. This... this is public." He chuckled nervously. "Like, really public."

"You ain't seen nothin', darlin'. Family Day is pretty tame. Tomorrow is another story!" Toby snaked an arm around Will's waist, and Will couldn't help but relax into the touch.

"What is Family Day, anyway?" Will called up to Tom, who was walking behind the wagon to make sure that Brian didn't accidentally throw himself over the side.

"They started it a few years ago, for families to bring their kids, and for people who want less crazy than what will be here tomorrow. They have a kids' parade and face painting and music. And it's a great time to visit all the different vendors - because, really, tomorrow is all about beer and hot boys!" Tom winked at Will. "Eric doesn't mind if I look."

Will regarded Toby's smirk with a wry grin. "I'm sure Toby wouldn't mind if I did, either."

"You know it, darlin'." Will jumped as Toby's hand strayed to his ass and gave him a little goose.

"Hey," he protested, looking meaningfully at little Brian in the wagon. "So, if tomorrow's all about beer and hot... er, boys, what's today about?" He eyed Tom's P-FLAG t-shirt. "Pride?"

"Family," Toby told him. "Community. Visibility. Being seen."

"You've never had a problem being seen," Will said.

"Yes, but there's plenty of folks who have trouble seeing. All those people who pass, who go through their ordinary days with no one realizing they're gay - this is their chance to stand up, to be counted, to be part of an  _us_  instead of a  _them."_

"Why the emphasis on family? I mean, not every gay or lesbian couple has kids." He was feeling a little overwhelmed, and so very very straight in that moment.

"It's not about having kids, or not," Eric's voice drifted back from where he was pulling the wagon. "It's about creating family for ourselves, our chosen family outside of the ones we were born into. Sometimes, there's overlap. But sometimes our chosen family is all we have."

"Chosen family," Will repeated. "I like that. You know, being part of Glee is like that - it's like a family, too." He ran a finger along Toby's ring, seated comfortably on the fourth finger of his left hand. Toby didn't look at him, but Will saw his smile deepen, and his blush spread along the neck of his tank top.

"You've always told your kids in Glee that they should be proud of themselves," Toby pointed out. "It's hard enough to be part of a club that everybody else makes fun of. They need their pride." He shrugged. "This is no different."

Will leaned in closer and whispered into Toby's neck. "I just don't know what I have to be proud of."

Toby sighed. "Oh, darlin'. You have to start letting go of all of that. There's no right journey here. Everyone finds themselves in their own way and their own time. Be proud that you're here, now, with me. That can be enough for now. You have the rest of your life to figure the rest out."

Will felt a rush of love for Toby, so bold, so much himself all the time. But on the heels of the love came frustration, and irritation that Toby expected him to be, suddenly, something other than what he'd been all his life.

"I just don't know if I'm even ready for this," he said. But his feet kept walking forward, and looking down at Brian riding in the wagon made him feel more calm.

Toby straightened his back and thrust out his chest, clad in his G.A.Y. (Girls Are Yucky) tank top. "You've got to start somewhere. Why not now?"

"Because all your friends think I'm a... what was it?" Will gave a short, humorless laugh. "Oh, yes, a spineless closeted prick."

Toby shushed him gently. "Colin may be my ex, but he ain't my friend, darlin'. And I'm marrying  _you,_  so you're definitely not spineless or closeted. You're not closeted to yourself, or to me, or Emma."

"Don't forget the kids in Glee." Will lowered his voice.

"I would never forget them. The point I was tryin' to make is that you're  _out._  There's no right way to do that, either. I worked with a director once who was only out to a handful of people, and that was all he needed. So don't let nobody tell you that you're wrong, Will. About anything."

Will took a deep breath. He looked inside himself for that center, that mantra he repeated when he'd gone walking in Denver, that said  _you're home, this is your home, you're with Toby, this is where you belong._  When he found it, he hung on tight, and said, "Okay. I think I'm ready."

* * *

They ate breakfast on the front porch at Tom and Eric's, a mere block from where the parade was going to be. Will wasn't sure what he'd expected, but the meager crowd trickling past the house in twos and threes wasn't it.

He flipped his sunglasses up on top of his head and whispered at Toby. "I thought this was the gay event of the season. Where is everyone?"

Toby just laughed. "The parade doesn't start for another half hour. There's nothing wrong with being fashionably late."

Eric eyed Will with a smile. "You should probably be prepared to hear some... words today. Words describing gay people." He grinned at Toby. "A little birdie told me they make you kind of uncomfortable."

"Okay," Will said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Like what?"

Toby cleared his throat. "Darlin'," he began.

"I know that one," Will said, deadpan, and Eric laughed. Will smiled. "Let me try:  _homo?_ "

"Way to be so '80s, Will," Toby sighed. "Maybe. How about  _fag?"_

"Okay," Will said again, and this time he swallowed against the constriction in his throat. "That's meant affectionately? Or is it still a slam? Because it sure is at the high school where I teach."

"Here, too," Toby nodded, "but among grown gay men, it's generally used kindly. Also  _queen._  And  _queer."_

"Now that one, I don't think I'll ever get used to." Will shook his head, watching Brian fly his Buzz Lightyear figure across the porch. "Would you say that in front of Brian?"

"Probably," Eric said. "I don't think I would censor it. It's an all-inclusive term, you know. Works for those weird bi people too." His grin was wicked, and Toby shook his head in amusement.

"The words aren't gonna bite you, darlin'. At least not here, not today." Toby squeezed his hand.

Will sighed. "I know. There's just a lot of history there. I don't know if it'll ever feel okay, to be... to use those words. About anybody."

Toby pulled Will back against his chest and wrapped his arms around him. "Nobody's sayin' you have to. I just wanted you to be prepared."

"Okay," Will said, but the unease continued, winding its way up from his stomach to his chest, making his breathing tight. Toby's touch wasn't helping today. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was already two steps behind everybody else; like there was an inside joke he was supposed to get, but he couldn't make sense of the punch line.

"Can we get you a pride shirt?" Eric offered. "I've got a box of them inside, if you want; you can take your pick."

Will tried to shake his head against Toby's chest, but Toby relaxed his embrace and tugged Will into the house even as he whispered in his ear. "Look at the shirts, but I have one for you if you don't like any of theirs."

Eric brought a box down from the attic and left it on the kitchen table for Will to paw through while he cleaned up the breakfast dishes. "Some of those are a little out there," he warned Will. "Nobody's ever accused Tom of being subtle."

"This one is good," Will said, holding up a shirt with a rainbow flag that read  _Like A Stonewall, These Colors Don't Run._

Toby unfurled  _I'm Not Gay But My Boyfriend Is,_  and held it out to Will, who raised both eyebrows and backed away, laughing. "Are you implying something?"

"Darlin,' you've been sayin' it for fifteen years," Toby said, and his smile was a little sad. Will wasn't sure what to say, so he just shook his head, and Toby put the shirt back in the box.

Next Will took out  _The Constitution is Not a Weapon of Mass Discrimination._  "Too wordy, but I like the sentiment. I think I'd just feel weird while people stared at my chest, trying to figure it out."

"You could just go shirtless," Toby suggested, and giggled when Will swatted him with the t-shirt.

"I like that blue one," Eric said, and Will took it out to read  _Focus on Your Own Damn Family._  He smiled ruefully. "There's a couple homophobic families at Brian's preschool, but so far they're mostly quiet around us."

"How about this one?" Toby held out  _I Can't Even Think Straight._  "It's nebulously gay. You know, gay lite."

"Uh," Will stammered. He felt the panic descend on him like a curtain, and he backed up a few steps. "I'm... Toby, I don't think I can wear any of these." The words echoed in his head, the words he'd said over and over, and he had to bite them back to keep them from tripping off his lips now:  _I'm not gay._

"It's okay," Toby soothed. He slowly folded the shirts and tucked them back inside the box. "Wait here. I'll be right back."

Will watched Toby dash up the stairs, and heard him rustling around in the guest bedroom. When he returned to the kitchen, he was holding a white plastic bag folded around something black. When Will dug into the bag, his hand touched cotton. The shirt was soft, looked like it would fit snugly. There was a rainbow triangle on the front, and underneath in white lettering read  _Visibility=Life._  Will smiled at Toby in thanks, but he still felt like he was missing something.

Tom took in the front of the shirt appraisingly, and nodded at Will. "It's a play on the old ACT UP t-shirts,  _Silence=Death._  They were all the rage, as it were, during the height of AIDS. I think I might like this message better."

Will closed his eyes against visions of Toby as a kid, defiant and proud; visions of Kurt, fighting the world with every breath in his body. He breathed in the calmness of finally giving in to the want he'd carried for all those years, when he opened his eyes to the world again, he smiled in genuine happiness. "I agree."

The shirt was a perfect fit.

* * *

Will wasn't sure what he'd expected, really, but for a gay pride parade there were an awful lot of politicians and church groups mixed in with the floats for bars and corporations, and more gay and lesbian sports organizations than Will had ever thought of (gay badminton, really?). He looked over the sea of faces, but other than the preponderance of rainbows in their wardrobes, it seemed just like any large gathering of people - all sizes, shapes, colors and family configurations.

"I don't understand some of these." He gestured at the float with the big tooth. "Honestly, why do you need a gay dentist?"

"It's a question of economy, darlin'," said Toby, squinting into the sun and appraising the size of the crowd down the road. "If you have a choice, why not support someone from your own community? Not that a gay dentist would be any better than a straight one, but if you can give money to the gay community, why not?"

"But it doesn't go to the gay community," Will argued. "It goes to that one gay guy. He buys food for his family and takes himself to the movies. The end."

"Or he buys tickets to a show with Toby in it, and supports the community that way," Eric pointed out. "Or he gets a book at the gay bookstore."

"Which closed last week, because of the fucking Barnes and Nobles and Amazons of the world. Sorry," Toby added, nodding at the four-year-old in the wagon.

Tom shook his head. "He's heard worse in our kitchen. Don't worry about it."

Will just watched, as float after float passed by. He was feeling so disconnected from all of it, and was wallowing in the feeling when Toby gasped beside him and grasped his hand.

"What is it?" Will was used to Toby being all kinds of relaxed in public. When he actually looked, followed Toby's gaze to the street, he saw a group of teens marching behind a banner that read "Rainbow Alley."

"What—?" Will started to ask, but Toby filled him in.

"It's the youth center downtown. And those," Toby was nodding at three kids who looked to be 16 or so, slightly off to the side of the main group holding the banner, "are three of my former students." He shook his head, and whispered almost to himself. "I had no idea."

Will put a hand on Toby's arm. "How would you, if they weren't out?"

"They could have been, to me. I would have been safe."

"You still can," Will smiled. "Aren't you the one who keeps telling me that it's never too late to make a difference?"

Toby lifted his head. "You're right." He stuck two fingers between his lips and let out a wolf whistle. The girl who was standing between the two boys turned her head at the sound. Will watched while she nudged her friends, and before he even realized that they had seen Toby, they were breaking away from the rest of their group and barreling over to the sidewalk.

"Mr. Grey, Mr. Grey!" The girl flung herself at Toby, laughing. "I thought you moved."

Toby wrapped his arms around her, and smiled into her hair. "Hi, Molly. I did. But I had to come back for Pride." The boys hung back, unsure, without the bubbly confidence of their friend. Will watched as Toby disengaged from the girl and nodded at the two of them. "Paul, Aiden. Are you having fun?"

The taller blond one nodded. "We had a battle this morning, though. Aiden's dad didn't want to let him out of the house."

Molly giggled. "Yeah. We had to go all queer commando, but he finally gave in."

Toby looked solemnly at Aiden. "You okay?"

The boy nodded without much conviction, and Toby moved closer to him. Will couldn't hear Toby's whisper over the collective noise of the crowd and the thump-thump of Donna Summer blaring from one of the floats that was inching its way past, but he could gather from Toby's hand on Aiden's shoulder and Aiden's frantic tapping on his cell phone's keypad that Toby was giving him contact information. Through all of that, Paul and Molly were eyeing Will with sideways glances.

Molly finally squared her shoulders and stuck out her hand. "I'm Molly. Are you Mr. Grey's boyfriend?"

"I… yes." Her handshake was firm and strong, and her presence reminded Will of Rachel. "I'm Will. Toby—er, Mr. Grey, is my boyfriend."

"Fiancé, darlin'." Toby was back, an arm wrapped around Will's waist.

Molly looked like she wanted to stay and talk, but Paul was impatient behind her. "Molls, jeez. Now we're gonna have to run to catch up with the group."

Toby waved them off. "It was great to see you, guys. Happy Pride!"

"They seem sweet," Will said as the kids disappeared back into the crowd.

"They are. Good kids. Talented. And lucky to have each other." He shook his head. "Aiden…"

"Reminds you of yourself. And Kurt." Will relaxed into Toby's body.

"Yeah. But at least Kurt has his dad and Carole. That's why…"

"You gave him your phone number."

Toby nodded. "No kid should have to end up in a shelter or doing some of the things I did to get by."

Will pulled Toby close and breathed in the sun-warmed scent of him. "That is just one of so many things I admire about you: that you care so much."

He startled for a moment at the gentle pressure of Toby's lips against his, but he knew there wasn't anything to be ashamed of, was almost expected today. He gave in to the kiss, to Toby's hands, warm and strong against his face. He tightened his arms around Toby's waist, and just kissed him.

When they pulled apart, Will let Toby hold him close and rest his chin on Will's shoulder. The click and flash of a camera didn't even catch their attention.

* * *

Hours later, Will's head was pounding. Toby wanted to head down to the festival, but Will just wanted a glass of water and a cool place to get out of the sun.

"My brain's full of images of the day," he said, when Toby checked in with him. "I'm not sure I can process them all. I think I'm going to take a break for a little while." He gestured to the bar one block over. "Can you come find me in an hour?"

"If you're sure you'll be okay?"

Toby's energy hadn't diminished since they'd arrived that morning, and he was clearly ready for more. Will nodded, giving him a gentle push on his arm.

"I'm a big boy," he said, smiling tiredly. "I'll call you if I need anything."

Toby gave him a quick kiss and wheeled the wagon down the sidewalk, singing a song about crocodiles with Brian. Will felt a little guilty abandoning Toby, but Toby didn't seem upset by it. He crossed the street, pushed open the door and stepped into the cool, dim restaurant.

Will slid into a stool at the bar and immediately felt much better. Sitting in a room with a bunch of average-looking strangers gave him a sense of normalcy. He took a deep breath, and felt his shoulders relax and the tension in his chest ease.

When the bartender nodded at him, Will ordered a whiskey sour. He let the first sip burn a trail down his throat, the last bit of tension he was holding onto disappearing. He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them there was a woman wearing a mohawk and several facial piercings sitting on the stool next to him.

"Rough day?" She nodded at his drink.

"'Scuse me?" He didn't understand the way the people here just made small talk with strangers. It was unnerving.

"Drinking alone before noon?" She quirked an eyebrow at him. "I mean, if you were out there and it were beer, that would be one thing. It is Pride, after all."

Will took another sip of his drink in an attempt to find his words. "Well... I'm here visiting a friend, and it's all a little overwhelming. So, yeah, I guess I need to relax."

"Good plan," said the woman. "Hank, can I have my usual?"

The bartender filled a glass with Coke from the fountain, dropped in a wedge of lime, and set it in front of her.

Will laughed. "That's a little lightweight."

"Nothing's lightweight in my family. Better to stay away."

Something in her tone told him not to push, so he didn't. Instead, he took the bowl of pretzels from his left and slid them over between them. "So where are  _your_  friends today?"

"I grew up in Denver, and I didn't want to miss Pride, but I don't have too many friends left in town. This old bar's about all I have left to remember. My partners are back in Santa Fe." She looked around the dim room with obvious fondness. "I'm living in New Mexico now, but sometimes it's good to come back home."

Will munched a pretzel. "Sure, but it seems a shame that you have to spend Pride alone."

"Says the man crying into his drink while his friends have a good time." She paused for a moment. "You do have friends, right?"

Will laughed, sharply, before holding out his hand. "I'm Will. My uh, my boyfriend Toby and his friends are down at the festival."

"Nicole." She took his hand; hers was cool from her glass. "Too much for your first Pride, huh?"

He stared at her for a moment. "How could you tell?"

Nicole scoffed at him. "Please. I didn't fall off a truck yesterday. You look like I felt at my first Pride. It can be a little much, sometimes. You'll get used to it."

Somewhere between the rush of the morning and the sun and altitude and the bottom half of his whiskey sour, Will had lost his filter. "What if I don't want to get used to it?"

Nicole poked at the lime wedge with her straw. "What were you, married?"

Will nodded at the bartender for a second drink, and then back at Nicole in affirmation. "And Toby and me... well. That's a really long story. But here I am, gone from straight and married to... not straight and engaged, in 6 months."

Nicole just fixed him with a stare. "I'm guessing you've been gay a lot longer than that."

Will choked on his drink, but the tears in his eyes weren't from the fire in his throat. His instinct was still to force out his lifelong story.  _I'm not gay._  He actually had to swallow the words back lest Nicole think he was an even bigger mess than he already seemed. Suddenly, he was angry. "Why do I have to label it? Why can't I just love him? Isn't that enough?"

"Is it enough for what? For you? Sure seems so. For him?" She cocked her head, and nodded when he sighed. "Looks like not. What about for your friends? Your community? The rest of the world?"

Will gazed at his hands, at his finger, devoid of a ring these past eight months, and felt the anger drain away. "I used to have a relationship that looked good on the outside. You know, the one everyone said I should have." He barked a morose laugh. "Turns out nobody actually thought it was good for me. I was just lying to myself, for over ten years. Longer, really."

"That's a long time to live a lie." Nicole made circles on the wood of the bar with her glass. "Why'd you do it?"

"Why did -" He gave her a funny look, and laughed again. "I'd think it'd be pretty obvious." He tossed back the rest of his drink, and it went down smooth. "I mean... who'd want to be gay?"

"Oh, I don't know. Sounds like you got to live both lives. Which one was better?"

Will blinked slowly, feeling the effect of the whiskey. He was overtaken by memories of Toby at B-W, his first home; sleeping together every night; spending summers together for so many years. He felt an errant tear slide down his cheek, and he didn't bother to brush it away. "He - he always made me feel like it  _was_  okay. Even when I was convinced it wasn't."

"Yeah. And you know what?" He looked up at her friendly face. "It is. It's okay. You get to love whoever you want to love. There's nothing wrong with being gay."

He just shook his head. "I know that. I'm a teacher. I tell kids all the time that they need to believe in themselves, trust their instincts. I tell them they should be proud of who they are." He swallowed the lump in his throat. "How can I tell them that, when I don't - when I can't even be proud of who I am?"

Nicole sucked up the last of her Coke, and tipped the glass back, trapping an ice cube in her teeth. She crunched it for a moment, and gave Will a pointed glance. "You went to the parade today. You wore that shirt.  _You_  did those things. It's a start. It's a process. Don't beat yourself up for something that doesn't happen overnight. You may not be proud of who you are yet, but you'll get there."

"That's what Toby keeps telling me, too."

"He's right. As for your kids at school, you might think about whether your struggle could help any of them at all. Because it doesn't matter how small a town you're from, you're never the only one."

"Oh, I know I'm not." He held the images of Kurt and Finn and Puck in his head, and Santana and Brittany, and all the kids who hadn't yet figured it out.  _Like him._  "I - I bet it would be easier, for them, if they knew they had a teacher who's... like them."

"Maybe not easier, but less lonely, perhaps. Less scary. Less lots of things."

Will indicated the little empty stage at the far end of the bar, the karaoke machine. "I help kids overcome their fear all the time. They get up in front of their peers, sometimes their enemies, and they bare their souls. They make a difference with their words."

Nicole nodded. "What would you want to say to them now, if they were here?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "I'm so confused."

"That's what you should say, then. There's no crime in being honest."

Will stood slowly, testing his sea legs after two drinks in short succession, and walked to the front of the bar, scrolling through the music catalog.

"One confused man, coming up," he said, selecting a song and picking up the microphone.

 

<http://youtu.be/s5Qghngef9k> 

_Rows and flows of angel hair_   
_And ice cream castles in the air_   
_And feather canyons everywhere  
_ _I've looked at clouds that way_

_But now they only block the sun_   
_They rain and snow on everyone_   
_So many things I would have done  
_ _But clouds got in my way_

_I've looked at clouds from both sides now_   
_From up and down, and still somehow_   
_It's clouds' illusions I recall  
_ _I really don't know clouds at all_

 

Will thought of all the things in his life that he'd done that he thought were going to be good for him. Terri was just the most obvious example. He wasn't in love with her anymore, but he definitely was still stuck on their daughter - who'd turned out to be an illusion, anyway.

And then he thought of Toby, and how Toby had always given him every bit of himself, even when Will couldn't do the same. Even when he could have been sick. Through Will's fear and anger and self-hatred, Toby never stopped loving him, never stopped trusting he was the answer. Will didn't know what he'd done to deserve such love, but it was time to stop taking it for granted.

 

_Moons and Junes and Ferris wheels_   
_The dizzy dancing way you feel_   
_As every fairy tale comes real  
_ _I've looked at love that way_

_But now it's just another show_   
_You leave 'em laughing when you go_   
_And if you care, don't let them know  
_ _Don't give yourself away_

_I've looked at love from both sides now_   
_From give and take, and still somehow_   
_It's love's illusions I recall  
_ _I really don't know love at all_

 

A slim line of light caught Will's attention, and he looked towards the door to see Toby tucking himself into the bar beside Nicole. His breath caught briefly in his throat. He'd been watching Toby move into spaces for the better part of his life, and it had always stopped his heart for a fraction of a second. Always. How could he have been so blind? So distanced from himself that it had taken him so fucking long to figure it out?

The bar was full, but Will kept his eyes trained on Toby's face as it shifted from slight annoyance to softness. Toby leaned against the wall by the door and wrapped his arms around himself, and Will could almost feel the goosebumps on Toby's arms from across the room. He was pretty sure they weren't from the air-conditioning. Will wanted to make sure that Toby understood that all of his confusion and fear over the years had nothing to do with Toby at all, and everything to do with himself.

 

_Tears and fears and feeling proud_   
_To say "I love you" right out loud_   
_Dreams and schemes and circus crowds  
_ _I've looked at life that way_

_But now old friends are acting strange_   
_They shake their heads, they say I've changed_   
_Well, something's lost, but something's gained  
_ _In living every day_

_I've looked at life from both sides now_   
_From win and lose and still somehow_   
_It's life's illusions I recall  
_ _I really don't know life at all_

 

He set the microphone down before the last notes played on the speakers, and stepped down from the stage amidst scattered applause to stumble into Toby's arms.

"I love you," he said through gritted teeth. "I'm sorry - I don't think I've been able to tell you that, with an honest heart, since we got here. But I do. God, so much."

"I know, darlin'," Toby murmured. "Don't you worry about a thing."

"I really don't know what I'm doing," Will said, feeling the anguish crest. "I'm - I'm scared. I'm scared of fucking up again. You don't deserve that."

Toby shook his head into Will's shoulder, smiling. "I told you, I'm prepared for that. I know this is a big step for you. You love me, but that's just between you and me, especially when you've been remindin' me for years that you're not gay. Coming to Pride, that's a whole 'nother ball game."

"But - Toby." Will took a deliberate breath, glancing over at Nicole, watching him with an encouraging expression. "I am."

Toby blinked. "You are what?"

"I'm -" He looked down at the rainbow on his shirt, for just a moment, and then up at Toby's clear brown eyes, and smiled. "I'm gay."

For a moment, Will thought Toby might pass out. He opened his mouth and closed it twice, without making any noise, and his skin went a shade paler than Will had ever seen it before. Then he let out a great joyous whoop, and lifted Will right off the ground, spinning him around. Will protested weakly, laughing, and when Toby kissed him, he didn't hesitate to kiss him right back.

"I'll be hornswoggled," Toby declared, with a big, breathless smile. He put a hand to his forehead in a fake swooning gesture. "My stars!" he drawled, thicker and deeper than Will had heard him in years. "Will Schuester is gay!"

Will kissed him soundly. He could feel the color high in his cheeks when they pulled apart. "Yes,  _darlin'._  And don't you forget it."

* * *

It was still early on Monday when Toby found himself on Colin's front porch. He rocked from foot to foot, listening to the sound of the doorbell echoing through the house. It felt strange, standing there like a guest, when he'd had a key of his own for years.

The doorbell went silent, there was a pause, and then he heard the scrabbling footsteps of Annie's claws on the wooden floor. He broke into a smile.

"Hey, girl," he called through the window, kneeling down so that she could see him. She nosed the sheer curtain aside and licked at the glass, her tail wagging furiously.

"Annie, hold your horses, girl!" Colin called, and Toby watched him emerge from the kitchen, drying his hands on a towel. He pushed the screen open, a knee in the way to keep Annie from bolting into the yard. When he saw Toby, he paused, his face going blank.

"I'm here to relieve you of your burden," Toby said, smiling.

After he recovered his equilibrium, Colin smiled back, letting him into the foyer and closing the door behind him. "She hasn't been any burden, Toby. She's the least burdensome dog that ever was."

"I've missed her something awful." Toby scratched her ears, and she leaned hard against his leg. "It's a little lonely, rattling around in my house alone most of the time."

"Yeah, well, she's missed you." He watched Annie licking Toby's face, his expression a little wistful. "You're very miss-worthy. Alone in your house? Don't tell me you and Will are on the outs again?"

Annie leaned harder, so Toby gave in and sat on the floor, letting her climb on him. "Nah, we're doin' fine, but it's over an hour's drive for either of us to visit the other, and we've been really busy with end of the year stuff."  _Never mind all our wayward teenagers,_  he thought with a little grin.

"You managed to make it out for Pride, I saw. That was quite a picture."

Toby wasn't sure what he meant, but he nodded. "Best holiday of the year, don't you know. You doing any shows this summer?"

"Carousel, with Kristen in Boulder at the dinner theater, but nothing further afield. You?"

Toby shrugged. "I'm still feelin' my way around the community there."

"Why don't you come inside and I'll get Annie's things together." He beckoned Toby to follow, and they went into the kitchen. Annie nosed her empty dog dish, pushing it around on the floor until Toby picked it up and put it on the counter.

He glanced around while he waited for Colin. The kitchen counter had been replaced since he'd been there last, and a handful of things seemed out of place. He was certain Colin had never read  _USA Today_ once in their years together, but the paper was on the table, open to the sports section. There was a pair of worn running shoes by the back door, a briefcase on a chair, and a white and purple Colorado Rockies baseball cap on the counter.

When Colin returned with Annie's bed and stuffed squeaky hedgehog, Toby pointed at the cap. "What happened to  _I live and die by the Red Sox win-loss record?_  Don't tell me you've gone over to the dark side."

Colin scratched his neck in an achingly familiar gesture of embarrassment. "Yeah, no... that's Foster's. I gave him the choice to be here or not when you arrived. I think he's at the gym."

Toby squinted his eyes and tried to place the name, shaking his head when his mental Rolodex came up empty. "I don't think I know him," he said. "At least, not that I remember."

"I think you met him once or twice before you moved. He's been really good for me. And our social circles don't overlap at all, which is heavenly. No more yapping about theater drama over dinner, can you imagine?" Colin was smiling hopefully at him.

Toby understood what that meant:  _Please, I want you to be okay with this._ He shuffled his feet.

"I'm glad you're happy," he said honestly. "I'm real sorry, Colin; I didn't treat you right. You deserve someone who loves you because you're you, not because you're  _not_  someone else."

Colin shrugged, leaning on the counter as he unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves. "Well, you know, I never expected any differently from you, Toby. You were always very clear about your priorities. I appreciated that."

"That doesn't mean that you didn't want more than I could give you." He stared at the baseball cap. "Foster, he gives you what you want?"

Colin smiled, lacing his fingers together. "Yeah," he said. "I think so. I'm glad things are going well with Will. Seems like he's come a long way."

"Yeah. He- we - are both getting there. It's been a winter, I'll tell you that." Toby felt his cheeks go hot. "We, um. Had a bit of a scare, in March.  _I_  had a scare in March."

"Toby Grey, preacher of hellfire and brimstone if someone even thinks of going bare? Toby Grey had a scare?" He poked Toby's arm, his smile wicked and brilliant, and Toby had to turn away.

"I wasn't sure if you'd be mad at me or not."

"Yeah, well. Foster's positive, so we've got our own issues to deal with around that."

"Shit, I'm sorry."

Colin waved his hand in the air. "He's healthy, the cocktail's keeping him young and kicking. But come on, Toby. What the hell are you thinking, stepping out on Will? After everything that happened..."

"We had an agreement," Toby said defensively.  _Still have._

"Uh huh. And how did that work out for you?"

Toby's stomach flipped over at the memory of those awful weeks, he and Will both terrified and distant. "It fuckin' sucked."

Colin put a hand on top of his. "I can't believe you're telling me you're not happy with what you have. Or did the reality somehow not live up to the fantasy?"

Toby had to scratch Annie behind the ear while he thought about Colin's question for a minute. It wasn't easy, with Colin looking at him like that with Jon's eyes and his own knowing smile, not to mention all the history between the two of them.

"I'm happy," he said. "I mean, when we're together and it's just us, when we can be Will-and-Toby. But Will has a lot of his own drama. He's still working on coming out."

Colin snorted, but gestured for Toby to continue.

"And he has a lot of stress from administrators and others at his school. I'm lucky; I don't even have to think about how people see me. I've never been able to pass, but Will is a master at it."

"Yeah, I don't think he'll have to worry about that much anymore, hmm?" Colin shook his head and tsked. "I'm not going to say I told you so, Toby. I really do want you to be happy. But I really hope you're thinking seriously about what you need in a relationship. What  _you_ need. Not what Will can afford to give you."

Toby thought about the engagement ring he'd bought for Will, currently sitting in a box in his duffel bag. He'd had it for months, waiting for the right moment to give it to him, but there hadn't been anything like that moment recently. Still, he hadn't questioned the decision to buy it, and he wasn't questioning it now. He shrugged, smiling to himself.

"I could go lookin' for something more, or better. But the truth is, I don't see the worth in any of it if I can't share it with him."

"Share it with him." Colin bit at his bottom lip. Now he was blushing. "Do you guys ever . . . bring someone home? Like we used to?"

Toby couldn't help laughing out loud. "My William is much too repressed for that. I think threesomes are a thing of my past."

"Well, I hope you'll keep yourself safe, Toby, you and your young man." He leaned forward and gave Toby a kiss on the cheek. "You'll send me pictures of Annie in Ohio?"

"Of course. That's the least I can do to thank you for keepin' her all these months. I'd better go meet Will. We've got a plane to catch."

The driver gave Annie a dubious look when he arrived to take Toby to the airport, but Toby reassured him, "She'll be as good as gold on the floor by my feet 'til we get there." Annie didn't prove him wrong. She curled into the tiniest of tiny balls and thumped her feathered tail continuously the whole way there, watching him with adoring eyes. He scratched her right where he knew she liked it, behind her ear.

"You ready to see Will?" he said. "He sure did miss you, girl. We both did."

Will met them at the curb, carrying Annie's crate. He wasn't wearing the  _Visibility=Life_  shirt today, but he did have the gold hoop in his tragus piercing. Toby leaned in to kiss it as he passed Annie's lead into his hand. She was too well-behaved to jump up on him or bark, but she wiggled all over and mouthed Will's hand while he crouched down to pet her. It took her about ten seconds to end up on her back, her belly bared for rubbing.

"We ain't got a subtle dog," Toby said, smiling.

"Who's a good girl?" Will crooned. "You are! Yes! She doesn't need to be subtle, Toby. She can just ask for what she wants."

"I think she wants to come home with us."

Will looked up at Toby, raising both eyebrows along with his smile. "Home?"

"Yeah," said Toby. "Wherever you are, darlin'."

They took her for a quick walk on the grassy parts of the manicured airport lawn so she could do her business before going into the crate. Toby dug in his pocket.

"Open your hand," he said. He placed a little prescription bottle in Will's palm. "Annie's meds, so she won't freak out on the plane."

"You think she would freak?" Will pressed on the child-proof top and opened the bottle. "I don't think I've ever seen her — oh."

He stood there, staring at his hand, where two pills rested beside a titanium ring, nearly identical to the one Toby wore on his fourth finger.

"Not freaking out?" Toby asked, smiling.

Will chuckled, fishing the ring out before putting the pills back in the bottle. "You think  _I_ need the sedative?"

"I think you need a lot of things, Will." He picked up the ring in two fingers and held it up. "You gonna let me be the one to give them to you?"

Will's eyes sparkled, whether with amusement or tears, Toby didn't rightly know. He held out his left hand. "Didn't we already have this conversation?"

"If you think I was about to let you have the last word, darlin', you don't know me as well as I thought you did." Toby carefully slid the ring onto his finger. Then he leaned in, watching Will's face carefully for permission before claiming a kiss.

* * *

Shelby woke early for work, but she seldom had time to read the paper before lunch on weekdays. She brought  _USA Today_  with her and brought it to the staff lounge. This close to the end of the year, her grades already turned in, she was only giving half a mind to her lesson plans. Most of the rest was on her upcoming trip to Tessera, and Beth. For the fifteenth time, the looked at the most recent picture Noah had sent. Beth was only seven weeks old, and she was already so much bigger. With a sigh, she put her phone aside and turned her attention to the newspaper.

Two pages in, her coffee sat forgotten at her elbow. Because there, in full color, was her choreographer - with his arms around her competition.

"Well, what do you know. Will Schuester." Shelby shook her head. "I guess he  _was_  gay after all."

She pulled her phone off the charger and opened up a new text message window.

* * *

Toby was browsing through the mysteries at the airport bookstore, waiting on Will to pick a magazine, any magazine, when his phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out, surprised to see a new text from Shelby. He almost dropped it when he read the message.

"Will." He said it harshly, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. "Come here. We have a situation."

Will's eyes were wide as Toby tossed Time Magazine aside and pulled him out into the crowded concourse. "Where are we going?"

"Just . . . hold on. You might want to reconsider taking those sedatives." Toby pulled up at the newsstand, and swiped a USA Today off the stack of national papers by the register. He flipped it to the second page, and let out a small sigh. "Well, darlin'." He turned the paper so Will could see the two of them in the moments after his students had scampered off into the crowd, Toby's arms around Will, holding him close. His chin on Will's shoulder. And the stark white lettering of Will's t-shirt. There was no identification with the picture, but people would see it.  _Shelby_ had seen it.

"Holy shit," Will whispered.

Toby gave him an apologetic smile. "Yeah, I don't think you're going to have to worry too much about coming out. Seems that the press has done it for you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song credit: "Both Sides Now" by Judy Collins, copyright 1968, cover performed by Joey Panek.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia picks up Sarah to take her to Tessera, and meets Lauren. Finn goes looking for Carl and ends up talking to Davis. While at Irene’s coffeehouse, Finn runs into someone from his past who recognizes him. Toby attends Jesse St. James’ graduation with Shelby and is introduced to Davis. Kurt visits Adam in Toledo on his tour. Carl drops his Corvette off at the garage. Burt and Blaine both give Finn a gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings for this chapter, other than some light making out and angst. The Darren described in the third scene was in the Glee pilot. Thanks to Flynn for writing Lydia. This is the last chapter - more notes at the end. 
> 
> -amy

 

Lauren's F-150 ground to a halt on the shoulder beside the construction site. She surveyed the site with an approving nod. "It's coming along."

"I know." Sarah grinned back. "Isn't it weird to see something we drew coming to life?"

Lauren leaned one elbow on the open window. "That's kind of a programmer's thing, though. Not physically, granted, but you get used to being able to control your environment when you learn how to code. So when's she showing up?"

"She said around three." She climbed down from Lauren's enormous truck. It was so tall that she literally had to hop down from the running board to the gravel below.

"And Mr. Hummel's cool with you just taking off to Iowa from here?"

Sarah shrugged. "I already said bye to everybody. I've got everything with me." She patted the backpack at her feet.

"We've got to get you a laptop," Lauren muttered. "You said you think you'd have access to a computer while you're there?"

"I bet Alec can set me up with something. Tess made it really clear that we just have to ask, but at the time, I couldn't think of anything to ask for." She snickered. "Did I tell you about the tattoos the guys got over Valentine's Day?"

Lauren shook her head. "It's still fucking with my head that you know Mistress Tess."

She offered Sarah a piece of gum. They both chewed thoughtfully, gazing across the dashboard at the slab form boards in place on the building site.

"She kind of adopted my brother," said Sarah.

Lauren gave her a side-eye look. "You know it's not exactly like that. Right? Kurt and Finn told me you get what's going on with them."

"Yeah, I think I get it. Noah and Finn have been like this as long they've been friends, but things definitely changed when they started doing sex stuff in November."

"That wasn't too weird for you?"

"No way," Sarah said. "It was totally what he needed. A while before that, he started being an asshole to everybody except me, but I had no idea how to stop him. And then Kurt showed up, and basically fixed him."

"I take it you don't mean fixed like a puppy."

She snorted, nudging Lauren's arm. "Like the opposite of that kind of fixed."

"Just checking. That's a kink too." Lauren looked thoughtful. "So... Finn, and Kurt. And Mistress Tess is handling him too?"

"And Adam." Sarah paused, frowning. "Shit. I think I used the wrong name."

"Adam's the guy who's with him at Tessera? His other Top — the one who has the new slave?"

"Kurt told you that?" Sarah looked impressed. "He must trust you. Yeah, he's there. Seriously, Noah needs every one of them to deal with his shit."

"He's a sub?"

She laughed. "He's a  _brat._ "

"Ahhhh." Lauren nodded understanding. "That makes total sense. Not my thing, but I get it."

"So what is your thing?" Sarah just looked interested, not confused or worried or anything.

"I'm not sure how much I can talk about  _my thing_  with a kid." Lauren laughed at Sarah's expression. "Hey, give me a break. I'm supposed to be a  _good_  influence on you."

"Dude," Sarah said, clearly offended. "You don't need to dumb it down for me. Just because I haven't  _done_  it doesn't mean I don't know about it."

"Yeah, okay." She considered Sarah. "My thing is pain. Causing, not receiving. The ouchier the better."

"I think I get that," Sarah said. "This one time, the whip marks on Finn's back took a week to fade, and—"

"Okay, that's just hilarious." Lauren was laughing. "You're telling me  _Finn Hudson_  gets worked over with a whip? Regularly enough for there to be  _this one time_?"

"His boyfriend — his other boyfriend — he's, like, really super good at it," she said earnestly. "He can hit Jenga blocks off a tower, one at a time, without knocking the others over."

Lauren stared at her. "Now you're going to tell me  _Carl Howell_  is his boyfriend."

Sarah stared back, her eyes wide. "Uh — I wasn't going to tell you that, no."

" _Fuck,"_  Lauren said. "Okay, for future reference? If you're trying  _not_ to tell somebody about Carl, don't mention the whip. Because he's apparently better at it than anybody else. As in he's been the US precision target and accuracy champion for years running." She paused. "But, okay, I can see it. Carl is super hot."

Sarah made a face. "Yuck."

"See, this is an example of having a type. I admire his talent. Also his arms. What about you? Do you have a type?"

"Maybe. Tall, definitely. Nice eyes, and nice smile are both important." She was blushing. "I have no idea. I've never even had a real kiss. Not one that counted."

"Kissing's overrated," Lauren said dismissively. "There's way more things better than kissing. Is it three yet?"

"In ten minutes." Sarah was quiet again. "I kissed some guys at parties. And two girls."

"And?"

"So far, yeah, it's overrated."

"See, what'd I tell you? What a waste to spend time worrying about that shit. It's either awesome or it's lame. In the meantime, there's tons of reliably awesome things to be doing."

Sarah cocked her head. "Like?"

"Like taking a road trip." Lauren grinned at her. "You'll have to tell me all about it when you get home."

* * *

The truck idled smoothly, and Lydia sat with her eyes closed taking breath after breath before she turned onto Ohio route 309, headed for Lima and her next rescue. The horse in her trailer was in worse shape than she'd expected: raggedy, thin and demoralized. Though she should be thanking her stars that he was as depressed as he was. He was easy as pie to handle, despite flinching when taking oats from her hand.

She wanted to keep off the major highways until she was sure how the horse handled being on the road. It would only take her a half hour to reach the Hummel construction site and could check on him. She usually preferred to drive with the radio on, but today she had to listen for any signs of distress from her passenger. She scowled again, thinking of how skinny he was - he weighed a quarter less than what he ought to, and his coat was a mess.

Lydia spent the rest of the drive using breathing exercises, and then once she was off the highway, her focus was on not getting lost. Doing that while driving an F250 with a sweet slant load trailer — one of the perks of her job, now that the horses were part of the country club — would not be a good idea. Tess had asked her point blank to identify three grades of the best equipment out there - basic, comfort, and luxury - and to her surprise, the comfort had been what the budget had allowed. The truck and the trailer both had the stylized Tessera T on the sides, loud and proud in blues and greens.

She was pleasantly surprised at how easy it was to navigate to the house, and she brought the trailer to a stop smoothly along the shoulder, hopping down from the big truck. She glanced inside, but her new friend appeared to be dozing, a wisp of hay hanging from his mouth. Good. That done, she strode up the driveway, trying to puzzle out where Sarah might be. The site didn't look to have construction workers, and there was just a single truck in the driveway.

"Lydia!" She saw Sarah appear from behind a stand of trees on the far edge of the property, waving excitedly. She was accompanied by a tall, broad shouldered teenager dressed in black wearing heavy rimmed glasses, with a cat's eye swoop that Lydia hadn't seen since the seventies. The look she gave Lydia was definitely appraising, if not suspicious.

Lydia grinned. "You here all by yourselves? I don't get to say hi to the rest of the family?"

"Carole's at work today. It was either that or work on Memorial Day, and I just told her to go ahead. I'll be back in a few weeks, anyway." Sarah didn't sound worried. "We could go back and see Tatenui, if you want?"

Lydia blinked, but smiled again. "Only if you want to, Sarah. What about all your brothers?"

She bounced on her toes. "They're fine. I just want to get down there and see Noah. It's been over a month."

"Well, I'm that glad to have a reliable hand with me for the trip back. I'll let you and your friend peek through the window at him, but he's in pretty rough shape, kiddo."

While Sarah climbed up on the bumper of the trailer to murmur sweet words at the horse inside, the older girl approached Lydia.

"She told me a lot about you. And the horses." She eyed the trailer dubiously. "I really don't get that."

Lydia laughed a bit. "Well, the horses have been my life, you see. I was Army, with the cavalry - and yes, we still have one. I'm retired now, but I sure wasn't ready to quit working." She considered the girl. "Sarah's a little distracted by my rescue there, so I'm lacking a little for an introduction here."

The girl nodded, looking satisfied, and held out her hand. "I'm Lauren. Sarah's mentor, I guess, in school."

"Nice to put a name to a face then. So this is the house the two of you created." Lydia looked across at the construction, shading her eyes against the sun. "Impressive piece of work!"

"I just taught her what to do with the CAD," Lauren said. "Sarah did most of the actual design. It's seriously the weirdest house I've ever seen."

"Takes a lot of discipline to teach a young one like that. Weird or not, I'm impressed."

Lauren looked like she was suppressing a smile. They watched Sarah poke a piece of hay in through the trailer window, trying to entice the horse to notice her. "I don't think Sarah listens to too many people, you know? But she listened to me."

"I do know," Lydia said soberly. "And there's something to be said for that, Lauren. I promise you, we won't let her run wild at Tessera - she'll have more freedom than she's used to, likely, but there's always eyes on out there. I really do need her help with my critter in the wagon there." She jerked a thumb at the trailer.

"Yeah." Lauren was silent for a few moments, still watching Sarah. "I don't know how much freedom's going to be good for her. From what she's told me, she's had a little too much of that. As far as I'm concerned, I think she could use a little more of what Tessera could offer her." She glanced over at Lydia. "She knows what's going on with her brother, and so do I."

Lydia didn't react, though she felt a little startled. "Excellent. Always better to be plain and clear. And I wouldn't worry. Tess isn't going to take temporary custody of an eleven year old lightly, and neither am I. There's a whole village out at Tessera, if you know the saying. She'll get our best; Lord knows she deserves it."

The smile Lauren gave her looked genuine. "Yeah, I can't say I would agree with you on that point about most people deserving the best, but Sarah's definitely one of them who does. To tell you the truth, I don't trust a village to do diddly-squat for most kids."

"Tessera ain't your average village, Lauren." Lydia was more serious now, looking at the girl more closely, weighing and evaluating the way she carried herself, the way she spoke. She'd be a force of nature someday, but she sure wasn't grown, not yet.

"So I've heard." Lauren sounded envious. "My Domme is friends with somebody who's spent some time there."

Lydia nodded thoughtfully, evaluating the likely possibilities in her head. Well, she wasn't going to tip her hand, not here. "Sarah have baggage with her?"

"Just her backpack." Lauren's lip twitched. "I don't think her baggage is all that visible."

"The worst of it never is." She pushed off the Tessera truck where she'd been leaning. The girl was taller and bigger than she was, but Lydia hadn't been at this for decades and raised a pair of twins to boot for nothing. "You think what's in that backpack is enough for an eleven year old for a couple of weeks?"

Lauren looked serious. "I actually think that's most of what she owns. I've seen her wear that skirt she's got on more than three times this year. Not that clothes matter, but... sometimes  _things_  do."

Lydia nodded. "I've got my own babies - they're out of the nest now. But that amount of clothing isn't going to cut it. You're her mentor. Do I stop somewhere and take her shopping, or do I just fill the dresser at Tessera?" Her voice was low, and she was unable to keep the urgency from it. Sarah had glanced 'round the end of the trailer at her, and Lydia knew they didn't have much longer to finish the conversation.

"Well, she's got Kurt there at home. I bet he's got enough clothes to fill all their closets. I've got to assume he's going to make sure that her fashion needs are taken care of."

Lydia chuckled. "I believe you on the first, but I think we might just take steps to be sure of the second."

"I don't think she'd object." Lauren's voice dropped to a quiet murmur. "She doesn't really  _ask_  for things."

"I'll see that we stop on the way, make sure she's got some sturdy basics - no, don't shake your head. I can put her in jeans and plain colored t-shirts, clothes to wear to take care of my new friend in the trailer, here, and Kurt can worry about details. And she'll need proper shoes and boots." Lydia squinted at the scuffed and torn toe of the sneaker that was just visible around the back of the trailer. "Those don't carry enough of a heel for riding, and the detailing would be a bitch to black every day. She won't be having anybody doing  _that_  for her, not at her age."

Lauren coughed. "Uh, no. She's eleven."

"Yes," Lydia said, relenting. "Ok. Look here. I'll take care of her from start to finish, and then some. I miss my kids, but not enough to smother her."

"Yeah, I don't think she would stay in one place long enough to let anybody do that. If you can get her to promise not to run away, I'd call it a win."

Lydia gave the girl a full on smirk. "We've got that covered out there. And collectively, we'll give her something to stay focused on. The horses'll manage that one for us nicely enough. Got a baby foal out there, not more'n three months old. Pretty cute, and pretty needy."

"Peachy." Lauren kicked the gravel with the toe of her own boot. "She'll need all the distraction she can get. I get the feeling she's not all that interested in her brother's baby."

"She will be," Lydia said softly. "She'll be given some minor responsibilities in that direction. And Puck's been asked to compare Beth to how Sarah was, when she was small, so Sarah can hear and relate." She had no idea why she wanted to reassure this tall, gothic teenager so badly, but apparently it needed to be done, so she'd make sure that was taken care of.

Lauren nodded. "Sarah said her family was big. I can tell she wasn't kidding."

Lydia nodded back. "We really ought to—"

"Lydia!" Sarah called, keeping her voice moderate, but she was obviously excited. "He's listening to me."

Lydia strode down to the end of the trailer, and eased in sight of the window. The shaggy guy inside did indeed have his ears pricked up, swiveled in her direction.

"Keep talking, in the same tone," Lydia said. "You can change the content of the discussion if you want. It doesn't matter what you say."

"There's another guy there, too," Sarah said, apparently continuing a conversation she'd begun earlier with the horse. "He's not my brother, but he might as well be. And he's got an  _amazing_  voice. I bet he'll sing to you."

Lydia watched, and the horse was blinking slowly, rolling his eye towards the girl.  _Hot damn._ She'd lucked out with this in more ways than one, apparently. "You sure are right, chickabiddy, he is listening. That's an awesome good thing there. Good job."

Sarah looked pleased. Lauren appeared bored, but Lydia thought she might know better.

"Can I give him something to eat?" Sarah asked.

Lydia shook her head. "Not right now. See, look, he's still got hay in his net there. During this trip, we want to make sure his environment stays as calm as possible, and that means minimizing you and me coming and going out of that trailer. He's pretty tired, though, been through a lot. I'm really hoping he'll sleep most of the way home. Good to know that he'll listen to you and stay calm."

Sarah hopped back down and heaved her overstuffed backpack out of Lauren's truck. She looked up at Lauren with a suddenly uncertain expression. "Can I call you?"

"Sure," said Lauren. She reached out and fist-bumped Sarah. "Any time. I'll be around when you get back from that family reunion."

* * *

Finn knew he could have asked Kurt to drive him downtown to Carl's office after school on Tuesday. He didn't really like having to wait twenty minutes for the bus, but he knew the route well enough by now. The truth was, he wasn't quite ready to have ten minutes of uninterrupted time with Kurt in the car, because he knew Kurt was going to ask him about what had happened on Saturday night.

He wasn't even sure he knew  _what_  to say.  _I know I just not-proposed to you last week, Kurt, but something happened with this boy you know as Patrick, and being away from him is suddenly kind of killing me._  Yeah. Talk about inspiring confidence. Even now, three days later, he could barely deal with the way it was making him feel.

It wasn't Blaine's doorstep he found himself on, though. He leaned hard on the doorbell of Carl's office, waiting for Angela to let him in. He did that a couple of times before he thought to wonder if she was still in town.

Sure enough, Angela wasn't the one who opened the door for him. Finn stared into wary blue eyes.

"May I help you?" asked the man.

"I'm looking for Carl."

"He's currently occupied. Would you like to make an appointment?"

The words were polite, but something about his tone, the way he seemed to expect Finn to turn around and walk away, made Finn bristle.

"No thanks," he said. "I'll wait here."

The man didn't prevent him from entering, but he returned to his desk and picked up the phone, murmuring a few words into the receiver. Finn stood with his back to him, studying the close-up photo of a braid of rope he'd looked at a dozen times, until someone emerged from the hallway. Unfortunately, it wasn't Carl.

"Hey, Finn," said Davis. "Carl's not going to be free for a few hours. You want to come into my office for a bit?"

The man at the desk didn't watch him leave, but Finn still felt scrutinized. He resisted an urge to turn and stare back, just to see what would happen.

"Who is that guy?" he demanded, once they were out of earshot.

"His name's Mark. He agreed to step in as Angela's substitute until things were more certain. Angela knew she could count on him." Davis held open his door for Finn and waited for him to enter first. "You might have seen him at Tessera? He was there over Valentine's Day, when you were there."

"I don't know." Finn eyed the door as he settled into a chair beside Davis' desk. " _Angela_  trusts him?"

"We all do. He was the first slave Carl ever trained." Davis smiled to himself. "That was back before I knew anything about what Carl does. Mark is completely devoted to his owner, and his owner's loaning Mark to Carl on a temporary basis."

He knew the prickle of anger that came over him wasn't rational, but he didn't try too hard to disguise it. "He's going to be at Carl's house?"

Davis tilted his head. "Is there something I can help you with, Finn?"

Finn sighed in frustration. "I should really be dealing with this on my own."

"There's no problem. I'm just asking if I can be of assistance."

"Not unless you can make a wormhole or something that could take me to Westerville."

Davis' smile was sympathetic. "It's hard to be away from something you belong to."

"Someone," Finn said immediately. "He's someone." Then Finn looked a little closer at Davis' face. "You mean… you mean  _you?"_

"I mean I've experienced that situation. When your responsibilities and your heart are in two different places, it's hard to be true to yourself. In your case, you're being torn in a lot of directions. Puck's been gone, what, a month?"

"Yeah, but he has Adam. And I know he's with Beth." He flexed his hands on the table. "He's getting taken care of. That's what matters."

"All of it matters," Davis said gently.

 _Blaine doesn't have anybody else._  The anger rose up again. It wasn't about Davis. He didn't have to yell at him.

"And I'm glad you see the importance of him being with his daughter. When I had my son taken away from me, I promised Carl he would never have to go through that."

Finn paused. "Is that why you moved to Lima in the first place? Because of — his daughter?"

"Carl told me you know about Rachel, Finn." He nodded at him. "I also know Rachel means something to you, too."

"Yeah," he said, feeling exhausted already. "That's… a little weird."

"Well, to answer your question, it was a collaborative effort." Davis stood and walked to the water cooler in the corner, filling one glass, then another. "Rachel's parents are friends of ours. When we found ourselves in a position to need to leave Cleveland, we asked if they'd be willing to relocate. We did a little research and together chose Lima. Hiram got a position at St. Mary's, and Leroy opened a new practice south of Toledo."

Finn accepted the water from Davis. "So why'd you need to leave?"

Davis gave him a surprised look. "Carl never told you about what happened with my firm?" When Finn shook his head, he leaned back in his chair with a sigh. "Well, that was a hell of a mess. It wasn't the first mess I got into that Carl couldn't get me out of, but it was the biggest."

Even in the midst of distraction, Finn was curious. "What happened?"

"Somebody found out about my involvement in the BDSM community," Davis said. "And they used it against me. I was a junior prosecutor, but I'd made some headway in a high-profile case. The defense attorney didn't like it. He issued a threatening letter, telling me to back off or he'd out me to the senior partners."

"Jeez," Finn said. He stared at Davis. "What did you do?"

"I wasn't about to put Carl at risk." Davis sipped his water. "I quit my job. Carl was pissed about the whole thing, of course, but he backed me up. He sent me out of the country to clear my head. I spent a half a year in London with a dance workshop, and when I came home, we talked about what to do. We decided it would be best to move to another city."

Finn swallowed on a dry throat. "That really sucks."

"Yeah," Davis agreed. "It was a lot to lose. That was almost six years ago, now. But it turned out okay. Carl loves his house. He's established both practices. And he gets to stay close to Rachel for a couple more years before she graduates."

 _Both practices._ He nodded, feeling a little sick. "I think… maybe I should go."

"If I might make a suggestion?" Davis stood, gesturing upstairs. "The garden tub is free. I suspect Carl will come find you when he's done with his client."

Finn had never wanted to ask who Carl's clients were before Carl started seeing Ms. Pillsbury. Now, the chance of running into her provoked enough anxiety to keep him out of Carl's office entirely. He shook his head. "Thanks, but…you don't need to tell him I was here."

He called Blaine while he waited for the bus, tapping his foot while he waited. Hearing Blaine's voice, the way he said, _"Finn?"_ with such relief, almost made him want to hang up the phone, but he kept it pressed to his cheek.

"Hey," he said, breathing out. "You doing okay?"

" _I — yes."_ There was a shuffling, like papers were being moved. _"Thank you for asking. I'm in the middle of a history project and I kind of… lost focus. But I'm okay."_

"I didn't want you to worry," he said, trying to sound calm, not desperate the way he felt inside. "The way we left things after Saturday, I didn't want you to think… that that's the way it had to be."

" _I didn't think it had to be anything other than what it was."_

He glanced down the street toward the approaching bus. The memory of what had happened on Saturday night replayed itself in his mind, Blaine on his knees, submitting as completely as he knew how, with Carl there to guide him. "And that… was okay with you? What it was?"

" _If it was okay with you."_  Blaine sounded, if not bewildered, something close to it.  _"You can tell me, if it wasn't?"_

"No," said Finn. "No, no, that's — that's not why I'm calling." He tripped over the toe of his sneaker as he fumbled his coins into the slot, nearly spilling them to the grimy floor of the bus, and slid into an empty seat. His pulse was loud and heavy in his neck. "I just want you to have whatever you need. And now that I've seen it, understand it, I can give it to you now. Without anybody else there to — to help."  _To get in the way,_  he'd been about to say.

" _You don't have to do it."_  Blaine sounded resigned.

"No!" Finn said, maybe a little louder than he'd meant to. He modulated his voice. "No. It's okay. Don't worry about that."

" _No?"_

"No. Just —" Finn gripped the seat in front of him. "Just let me. Okay?"

" _Okay. If you're sure."_

"I'm really sure," he promised. In his mind — not even his secret mind anymore, but his regular old everyday mind — there were kisses involved in the  _letting me_ , that kind that involved tongues and a lot of moaning. But at this distance and with these limitations, he was willing to leave it at a deep breath. "I'm really, really sure. Can you finish your project now?"

" _I think so?"_

"Do you need me to come out there and help you?"

Finn didn't mean to make it sound like a warning, but then he heard Blaine gulp, and he had to close his eyes and try to get himself under control. When the girl sitting on the seat next to him touched his arm, he startled.

"You okay?" she said under her breath.

Finn nodded. He wasn't sure what he could say without Blaine hearing it.

" _Would you —"_  Blaine paused, and sighed. " _I don't know. I don't know what I'm saying."_

"That's okay. Just, you know. Hang in there."

" _Okay."_  He listened to Blaine take another deep breath, this one more intentional.  _"I'm not sure what I'm hanging on to."_

 _Yeah, I'm not sure either._  That definitely wasn't the kind of certainty Blaine needed from him. This was feeling more and more awkward by the moment. Instead of trying to answer, Finn waited until he felt a little more calm, then said, "I can't come this Wednesday, because my mom would kill me if I don't get my work done for American history, but I'll see you on Saturday, okay?"

" _Yes, thank you. You and Carl?"_

"We'll be there," Finn promised. "And call me if you need anything."

" _I will,_ " said Blaine, in that kind of automatic way that told Finn he'd never actually call, even if he did need something.  _"Thank you again."_

Finn put his phone away, not making eye contact with the girl beside him. She just looked at him sideways, then left him alone. That was probably just as well. He didn't feel like he was of much use to anyone at the moment.

* * *

As hard as that week was — being away from both Blaine and Puck, and trying not to think about how much he wanted Carl to take care of everything — Finn thought they sounded fantastic on Saturday at Irene's. He wasn't sure if it was the relief of taking a break from studying or something else he couldn't define, but the sound they created together seemed especially rich and powerful and sweet. Finn watched the expression on Carl's face escalate into something akin to bliss. He knew exactly how Carl felt.

"We are  _on_  today," Blaine said to him between U2's "Mysterious Ways" and Boston's "Peace of Mind," his eyes shining.

Finn just grinned. He didn't even argue with Carl when he tapped him on the shoulder to switch out drummers.

"We're going to take a break," said Blaine into the microphone. "But don't go away; we've got a second set after this."

Finn gulped the last of his lime soda and stepped down off the stage, moving through the back hallway toward the bathroom.

He could hear the conversation in the back room, and realized it was the first Saturday of the month — the day when the BDSM munch thing happened. He knew a little bit about it from Carl, and from talking to the woman who'd made Blaine's collar, but that was as far as he'd come to venturing inside. He paused outside the room, listening to the voices laughing and talking.

It was the laugh that sparked the memory. Finn recognized that man's laugh. He couldn't remember where he'd heard it until he heard another laughing voice, a woman, say, "That doesn't make it easy, Darren."

 _Darren._  The image and the name merged in Finn's head, and he blanched, taking a step back. The cocky grin, the mullet. It was the lawn care guy. The guy his mom used to date, back when he was a kid.

"You know better than to snoop during this event," said Irene right behind him, making him jump. He gave her an apologetic look.

"There's a guy in there," he said. "Somebody my mom knows."

"No doubt." He stepped out of her way as she moved through the doorway into the room. That was definitely a glare. "But you'll keep confidentiality, or I'll have to ask you to leave."

"No, I — I will." Finn stepped away hastily. He really didn't want to get in the middle of things. "I'll go back. We've got another set."

She nodded, a hint of approval in her eyes. "The three of you draw more of a crowd at my open mic than anyone."

"They're still mostly here to see Patrick," he said.

Finn was pretty sure their second set wasn't as dynamic as the first had been. It was no wonder, not after he'd been distracted like that, but they still got plenty of applause. Finn stayed at the microphone for all three songs, letting Carl remain at the drum kit while he sang.

This was unusual enough behavior that Carl followed Finn down off the stage afterward. He placed a hand on Finn's back. Finn knew Carl was checking his vitals with that touch, paying attention to all the minute messages his body was sending out, but he fidgeted restlessly anyway.

"What happened?" Carl asked quietly.

Finn hesitated, torn. "I don't think I can say…"

"Oh my god. There's no way that's  _Finn?_  Little Finn?"

The excited voice was more familiar the second time. Finn still didn't remember the woman's name, but looking at her, he recognized her as surely as she was recognizing him. She was blonder and less pretty than he'd remembered.

"Sorry, you're mistaken," said Carl, his smile becoming bland as he shifted into protective mode. But the woman just laughed, pushing past Carl to stand close in front of Finn, touching his arm in a way that made Carl bristle even more.

"It is you! Well, as I live and breathe. It's me, Brenda." She smiled up at him. "Look how tall you've gotten. What are you doing in Columbus? You're not in college yet, are you?"

Her questions scattered across him, making him flinch. He looked at Carl for support. The second he did it, he knew it was a mistake. She looked at the way Carl was glaring, the distance Finn stood beside him, and her eyes widened.

"Oh — you're with  _Derek._ So you must be here for the munch."

"Brenda," said Carl, the warning clear in his voice, but she was ignoring him.

"Are you here with your mom? I didn't see her in there either." She tilted her head. "Are you sure you're old enough to be here alone?"

Everything was moving too fast. Finn knew he could get a handle on this, that he had the right things to say in his head, but being here with Carl, seeing the recognition in Brenda's eyes, the crazy juxtaposition of his two worlds, he couldn't call forth anything like strength. He just stood there like an idiot.

"If you'd be so kind," Carl said, his voice icy, "he uses the name Christopher here."

Brenda was oblivious to Carl's repressed anger. She put both hands on Finn's arms, smiling warmly into his face.

"Christopher. Of course. That was your father's name, wasn't it?" She patted him, backing away. "Just wait there. Darren will definitely want to see you."

Carl took his elbow the moment she was out of sight. "How do you know her?" he demanded.

"It's — my mom." Finn shook his head, feeling muddled. "I don't want to do this. I don't want to talk to Darren."

"We can go home," said Carl immediately.

"I should say goodbye to Blaine. We're not going to — this is the last time I'll see him for a while."

Carl was already in motion. "Go on. I'll deal with Darren and Brenda."

Finn slid into a seat beside Blaine in the back of the coffeehouse, watching the guy on the stage make a mess of his cover of Danity Kane's "Damaged." Blaine gave him a smile, which changed to a quizzical look when he saw Finn's expression.

"Are you okay?" Blaine whispered.

"I'm sorry. I have to go. Something came up."

It was a weak excuse, but Blaine just nodded, only looking a little disappointed. "Okay. I'll talk to you later? Good luck with finals."

"You too." He had so much more he wanted to say, but during someone else's performance wasn't it. He walked away without even a hug for Blaine. It left him feeling dissatisfied and even more antsy, but he managed to get to the Corvette without running into Darren or Brenda.

"Jesus." Carl shook his head at Finn as he buckled the seat belt. "Of all the people to get mixed up with. How does your  _mom_  know them?"

"She dated — him. Um, I think  _them."_  Finn leaned back against the seat. "I totally didn't know that back then, but looking back on it, it's obvious. I guess I shouldn't ask how  _you_  know them."

"Believe me, there's nothing to tell. They show up some months at the munch. You're going to meet a lot of people in the scene, Finn, some of whom will terrify you and some of whom will make you laugh. When it's both, I recommend you turn and walk away quickly." Carl looked a little ill. "I hope your mom did that."

"Darren wasn't around for too long. I get the feeling she figured out he wasn't Mr. Right. I remember her standing in the road and shouting at both of them as they drove away." Finn watched the Columbus scenery disappear as they got on the highway heading north. He could still feel the pounding of his heart in his throat. "They knew me. And you."

Carl's mouth tightened. "Yeah."

"What if they say something to somebody?"

"Finn, we can't worry about that right now."

"We have to worry about it," said Finn. His voice was loud in the enclosure of the car. "It's not like this isn't ever going to happen again. Especially with you and Ms. P being together. It's going to be  _harder_ to make people think we don't — that we're not —"

Carl waited for the words that Finn didn't say to dissipate before reaching for Finn's hand. After a moment, Finn took it. It felt like a surrender, and not a good one. He tasted the coppery tang of adrenaline in his mouth.

"I don't want you to be scared about that."

"How can I not be scared about that?" Finn shouted. "How can  _you?_  You're the one with everything to lose. What if it's like it was in Cleveland all over again?"

Carl gave him a sidelong look, keeping his eyes on the highway. "Who told you about that?"

"Davis."

He nodded. "We handled Cleveland."

"You had to  _move._  How is that handling it?"

"Well, we kept our standing in our professions, and we came out of it with our reputations in the community intact. And I stayed close to Rachel. I'd say that counts as handling it."

Finn stared at his hands. "I hate this."

"I know it's not easy," Carl began, but Finn withdrew his hand from Carl's, and Carl stopped talking.

"I think we shouldn't be together," Finn said. "Anymore."

The silence went on for a while. He didn't look up at Carl as he fought for words. Kurt would have known what to say, but Finn just felt like he was fumbling for something, anything, to explain what he was doing in a way that didn't feel like giving up.

"I mean, I can't really stop seeing you. I know I need what you give me. The discipline. I know that about myself. But I can't do this anymore, this —  _fake boyfriend_  thing. It's not good for either of us."

Carl spoke quietly. "I'll thank you to speak for yourself, boy."

"For me, then," Finn said. He closed his eyes. "It's not good enough for me."

He waited for what felt like a very long time before he heard Carl's sigh.

"Well, I suppose I'm not surprised. You've been telling me you weren't happy for a while."

 _I was,_  Finn thought miserably.  _I was happy. It's the stupid world that's not going to let me have that._  That definitely sounded like whining in his head, though, so he just nodded.

"You would like to continue as my client."

Finn flinched, but he nodded again. "I'll keep doing the… the training."

Carl's voice was even. "I think that would be best, yes. You're making good progress. I'd hate to see you lose that because of a change in our relationship."

Neither of them said anything for the rest of the drive back to Lima. Carl brought him directly to Kurt's house instead of back to his own. He idled in the driveway while Finn collected his things, not making any motion to get out of the car. But after Finn climbed out, Carl reached for his hand — not to hold it, but just to touch it to get his attention.

"Finn," said Carl, sounding very gentle. "I'm not angry at you."

"Yeah, well, you get to be," Finn muttered. "People get to be angry when somebody breaks up with them."

"I'm not going to think about it like that. Relationships shift and become whatever people need them to be. This, you and I, can be whatever you need."

Finn wasn't going to yell at Carl in Kurt's driveway. "Yeah, no. If that were true, I wouldn't be doing this. Just —" He shook his head, feeling something inside him give way. "Just let me be the one to call you. Okay?"

He couldn't stand there and look at the stricken look on Carl's face any longer. He shut the car door and let himself into the house through the garage. He wasn't going to go to the front door; he couldn't face his mom's questions or Burt's bewildered kindness.

Kurt was sitting on the green couch with the television on, frowning at his notebook. He scribbled something, crossed it out, muttered words under his breath and wrote more. He didn't seem to be paying attention to the musical that was playing on the screen, but Finn knew better.

Finn sat down next to Kurt, close enough for their legs to touch. Kurt put an absent hand on his leg, squeezing once before going back to his writing.

"Make any progress on your story?" Finn asked.

"I can't tell yet. Most of this is pathetic crap, but I won't know how much of it is okay until I'm done. Then I can toss out everything I can't stand, and hopefully I'll still have enough to meet the required word count."

Finn picked up the remote control. "Okay if I turn this off?"

Kurt looked up at the screen, as if he was startled to realize it was still playing. "I guess?" Then he finally looked at Finn. Immediately he set his notebook down on the table, turning toward him, and put his arms around Finn's middle, pulling him close. "What happened?"

"I broke up with Carl," Finn said.

He cried for a long time, trying to keep it quiet. Eventually Kurt helped him stand up and brought him into the bedroom, where they lay on his bed and Finn cried some more. Kurt didn't try to stop him, but he handed him a clean handkerchief every now and then, and rubbed Finn's back and kissed him.

"Do you want to tell me anything else?" Kurt asked eventually. "About why?"

Finn sniffed, rubbing his face on Kurt's pillow. "I don't know if I have words to explain."

"I'm just a little surprised. A lot surprised."

"It's not about you, if you're worried about that." He propped himself up on one elbow. "I think I decided I didn't really like who I was becoming with him. Like, how much I needed him for everything. That's how I am around him, and… that's not who I want to be. Not who I need to be, for Puck. Or Patrick. Or Beth."

Kurt watched him with obvious concern, touching his hair, his face. "Do you really think he wants you to be like that? Helpless?"

"It's not even about what he wants. It's just how I feel when I'm around him." Finn sighed. "It sucks. But I think I need to figure out who I am without him. And I'm still going to… see him. In his office."

"Oh." Kurt sounded startled. "That sounds like it might be really hard."

"Yeah. But it was hard being  _with_  him and not getting what I wanted, too."

"I'm sorry," said Kurt. "I'm sorry I didn't realize it was that bad. I feel like I should have."

"No, baby." Finn kissed him, still holding on. "I was kind of keeping it to myself. I would have told you."

Kurt nodded. "Is there anything I can do, then?"

Finn closed his eyes, letting himself relax into Kurt's strength. "You're doing it."

* * *

Shelby waved when she saw Toby in the aisle along the wall of the gymnasium. He edged his way in, smiling and apologizing as he nudged against everyone seated. Everyone smiled back, of course. Shelby recognized that was the way the world reacted to Toby. Either he charmed their socks off, or they were intimidated by him.

"I wasn't sure you'd get my message inviting you to this," she said as he settled himself on the folding chair beside her. "How many voice mails did you have about the USA Today article when you got back from Denver?"

"Something close to forty," he said. "Will got more than that. I'll say nobody on my end was all that surprised. I did get one from Will's father, sayin' he was glad for us. That was a laugh, especially considering he didn't call Will."

"Well,  _I_ was surprised," Shelby said, grinning. "I point blank asked Will if he was gay, and he said no."

"Yeah, he's been sayin' that for about fifteen years. Not any more, though." He held up his left hand and showed Shelby the ring.

"Huh." She admired it, since he obviously wanted her to. "So he's your mystery man. And you managed to get through a half a year of competition with him, and an HIV scare, and you're still together. I guess I can't say anything about that. Except — you're not planning to move to Lima, are you?"

Toby laughed out loud. "Hell, no. I moved from Denver. That's as far as I'm planning to move. Plus I just bought this house. He's comin' to me."

They looked up at the stage, where the band was just beginning to begin "Pomp and Circumstance." She shifted in her seat, scanning the sea of graduates in robes and mortar boards for Jesse's face.

"Who's the empty seat for?" Toby said, nodding to the other side of her. "I thought I was your date for this event?"

"My ex," she said. "Jesse's dad. He's always late to everything. Yes, including his own wedding — both of them."

Sure enough, another five minutes went by before Davis arrived. He didn't have nearly as many smiles from the people in the aisle compared to Toby, but he also didn't bump against anyone as he wound his way around the spectators. Davis was just as graceful as he'd ever been.

"Sorry to be late," he said, taking his seat. He hugged Shelby before noticing Toby — and stopped, staring. Toby stared back, then let out a smothered hoot.

"Well, well. Ain't this a small world." He reached out a hand and Davis took it, holding it across Shelby's lap. "You're Jesse St. James' father. I'm his dance teacher."

She rolled her eyes and groaned. "For crying out loud. Do you know  _every_  gay man in the world?"

"London," Davis said, his face splitting into a delighted grin. "We met at the Royal Academy of Dance, at the workshop Carl sent me to. Toby, right? Davis. What a coincidence. Wait, I thought you were in Denver? How'd you end up in Ohio?"

"Forget this." Shelby stood up, pushing Davis into her own seat and taking his. "I'm not having your reunion happen over top of me. Just keep in mind we're here for  _Jesse._ This is not a hook-up. Not to mention the two of you are both taken."

"Oh, do tell." Toby gathered Davis' hands into his, smiling. "I'm all ears. Tell me all about who's captured your heart, and I'll tell you about mine."

They managed to keep their animated conversation reasonably quiet through the entire ceremony, not even drawing one glare from the families around them. When Jesse walked out on stage to accept his diploma and shake Principal Taylor's hand, they stopped to cheer without being reminded, then went right back to talking. Shelby watched them, bemused, wondering if she should take a picture of the two of them together to use as ammunition.

They followed the graduates as they processed out, tossing their hats as they went. Toby gave Shelby a hug, then smiled and gave Davis one too.

"Congrats, mom, dad. You've got yourself an official adult."

Shelby let out an exaggerated sigh. "He's heading off to California as soon as they'll let him leave school. I don't think we'll be seeing much of him for a while. Thanks for coming, Toby."

"It was my pleasure." He reached out to touch Davis' hand, and left behind a card, grinning impishly. "Call me."

"It's a different world, isn't it?" she asked Davis when Toby had gone. He'd pocketed the card in his hand, but he was still smiling. "Being a gay man. It's like the rules the rest of the world use don't apply."

"He's got an agreement," Davis protested. "He and his partner. They're free to see other people, as long as it's not getting back together with their exes. I don't think I count as an ex. Anyway, this was just a friendly conversation. We haven't seen each other in years. It was nice to catch up."

"Oh, is that what you were doing." She sniffed. "Come on. Let's find our kid. We promised to take him out for dinner before he vanishes to California."

* * *

"So then he finally showed up," said Toby, stretching out the hand holding his wine glass in a salute, "and it was the fella I'd hooked up with in London back in 2005. Shelby's  _ex._ "

"You do get around." Will could only feel amused. He supposed the two glasses of wine were helping. "You suppose you'll see him again?"

"I'm more interested in  _dancing_  with him again. That boy had moves." He leaned back into the crook of Will's arm. "I'm not looking for a hookup."

Will smirked. "I think you don't ever go  _looking_  for them, but sometimes they find you."

"Oh!" Toby sat up abruptly, nearly spilling his wine. "That reminds me. I found you a summer school Spanish teacher. To replace the guy who canceled on you?"

"Is that right?"

"Well, as it happens, the boy I've been teaching privately, Jake? His counselor is lookin' for a career change. She wants to get into the schools, so she's been takin' classes toward her certification. I've seen her in action at the P-FLAG meetings. She's got some mojo with those kids." He grinned triumphantly. "And she speaks Spanish."

"I don't know, Toby," Will said doubtfully. "I think Figgins needs to hire a certified teacher."

"Couldn't hurt to ask. I'll pass on her contact info. Beggars can't be choosers, not at this date, hmm? The kids are starting in two weeks."

"You think you're so full of good ideas." Will poked Toby's nose, making him flutter and complain. "Denver Pride, now this. What's next?"

"Oh, I don't know," he drawled. "I was thinking about tryin' out for a show."

* * *

Kurt barely paid attention to his father's words as he pulled into the loop in front of the Grand. He knew his dad was telling him to call when he was ready to be picked up, and to be careful, not to wander around Toledo by himself, and any number of other things, but all he could think was,  _Adam is waiting for me inside._

"I will, dad," he said. Whatever his dad had said, he would do. He wouldn't do anything inappropriate or unsafe. He would be in the hotel with Adam. He leaned over and kissed his dad's cheek, making him pause in his speech and smile in surprise. "I'll be fine."

"I'm sure." His dad watched him as he got out of the car. "But you know you can call me, any time."

"And  _you_  know I won't be calling you until eleven o'clock," he said, laughing. "I could have just driven myself."

His dad was still smiling. "Humor me, okay? You're my only son. I'll be waiting."

Kurt went up to the desk. He only hesitated a moment before saying, "I'm here to meet someone?"

The woman at the desk smiled politely. "All right?"

"Um… Adam Lambert."

It was still strange to say his whole name. The woman stiffened, frowning at him. He could only assume that meant she knew who he was, and disapproved of whatever she thought they were doing together. He could only smile.  _Whatever you think we're doing, you're probably wrong._

"Mr. Lambert's security officer will be down in a moment to bring you upstairs," she said. "You may wait in the lounge, if you like."

"I'm fine here," he said, stepping back.

The hotel was fancier than just about any he'd been in before, except maybe the Omni in Los Angeles where he'd stayed when he first visited Adam. It was all wood and shiny brass and subtle lighting. He could imagine executives for some fashion magazine meeting here for a conference, schmoozing and talking over wine.

When he looked up, Angela was standing beside him, smiling at him. He rose to his feet and hugged her hard.

"You're  _here,"_  he said. "That's so weird."

She laughed. "Tell me about it."

"You're doing all right?"

"I really am," she said. "Adam's waiting for you upstairs."

He took her arm, grasping it gratefully. She felt so warm and familiar and safe. "I'm glad you're here with him."

"I am, too. Have you talked with Noah?"

"Noah," Kurt said, smiling. "Since when do you call him that?"

"Since everyone around him called him that," she said, laughing. "Adam and Tess and Shelby. Everyone at Tessera calls him that — when they're not calling him  _brat,_  or  _boy._ But he doesn't mind any of it. He's waiting for the day when someone calls him  _Papa."_

His smile broadened as they paused in front of the elevator. "It won't be long, will it? A couple months, she'll be talking."

"I know." Her eyes had lit up. It made him smile to see it, the way she was reacting to thoughts of Beth.

"You really love her, don't you."

She smiled. "I really do. She's fantastic."

"Why didn't you ever have your own children?"

Angela was quiet as they boarded the elevator. The doors closed behind them.

"When I was a little girl, I always wanted to be a mother," she said. "I met the man I thought was going to be the father of my children in college. He told me I didn't need to do what I loved, that I only needed to follow his rules to be happy. And I wanted to follow them." She slid a keycard into the slot above the number buttons, pushing the button for the top floor. "I loved following his rules, even when they took me away from the things I wanted."

Kurt watched the numbers climb to the twenty-seventh floor. "What did you want?"

She smiled. "It doesn't matter now. But he wasn't a kind man. I got hurt, a lot. I didn't mind that so much, but when it hurt my baby, I didn't know what to do."

The bell dinged. He looked at her, calm and poised, waiting for him to exit the elevator. "You let him hurt your baby?"

"I miscarried, several times. I felt trapped, but I loved my husband. I didn't know what to do. Until I heard Carl, on the radio. That's another story, but his words, the things he said, gave me the courage to leave, and to find another way to be happy." She gestured for him to walk with her down the hall. "We all have more than one thing we can do. I lost one, but gained another. I don't have regrets about that."

They turned the corner and continued down the silent hallway. Kurt wanted to ask her so much more, but his mind was still focused on Adam, waiting for him in the hotel room. He took Angela's arm as they walked, linking it with his own. The surprise on her face looked a lot like that of his dad's when he'd kissed him on the cheek.

"So how is Noah doing?" she asked. "I imagine you miss him."

"I've been trying to stay busy with school, but… yes, very much." Kurt smiled. "Since you and Adam left Tessera, he's been conspicuously clingy on the phone."

That made her laugh. "He needs people. But he's not exactly alone. And he'll be home soon enough. You'll have a whole summer to be together, and after that."

"I'm definitely not objecting," said Kurt.

They stopped at the door in the corner, and Angela slid the keycard in, opening it for him. The woman who met them at the door was unfamiliar, but she let them in without question.

And there was Adam, standing by the window, dressed in a satin robe and slippers. He turned and saw Kurt. In three strides, he was standing before him, holding his face in both hands while he kissed him.

"Oh, honey," Adam whispered. He took a moment to look at Kurt, really  _look,_  for a good twenty seconds. Kurt almost squirmed under the scrutiny. He was smiling so hard, his face hurt.

"I'll be here," said the woman who'd met him at the door, clearly amused.

Angela was already standing in a silent, subservient pose beside the table. Adam paused to stand before her. He didn't lay a hand on her, but the way he spoke, Kurt could hear the same love in his voice that he heard when Adam spoke to him. It made him smile.

"You're all done for tonight, Angela."

"Thank you, Adam."

There was no curtsey or bow or anything other than her simple response to indicate her obedience, but it was obvious all the same. Adam led Kurt into the adjoining room and shut the door.

Kurt couldn't help but ask, "What will she do now that she's… done?"

"Whatever she wants," he said. "I can't get behind the idea of 24-7 slavery. I think it's important for her not to forget how to make decisions for herself." He giggled, sitting on the bed and kicking off his slippers. "I believe she and Crystal have an ongoing after-hours poker tournament."

"Crystal's your new security officer." Kurt sat beside him, sliding over until he was close enough to touch.

"She's worked with the band all along. She doesn't want to know about our personal lives, and she keeps her mouth shut. Otherwise, it's strictly professional with the band. But I think she likes having Angela around." Adam nuzzled his ear. "Do you really want to spend this time talking about Crystal?"

"No," gasped Kurt. He tipped his neck back, already feeling dizzy with Adam's lips on his neck. "You — you can stop talking any time."

"Mmmm." Adam gave him a wicked smile as he slid down to kneel between his thighs. "That sounds like an invitation."

They didn't talk about anything else until much later, when they were both naked and much more relaxed, and Kurt was massaging Adam's back.

"I get the idea that Noah has loved being at Tessera," said Kurt, digging in with his thumbs. "But it's hard for me to tell if it's that he loved  _Tessera,_  or loved being with you."

"Maybe a combination?" He made a protesting noise as Kurt found a particularly sore spot, but he didn't flinch or tell him to stop.

"What did you love the most?"

Adam rolled over onto his back, looking up at Kurt. "Honestly?"

"Of course."

"I think I loved being with Beth the most. And, seriously, I did not expect that." He grinned at the face Kurt made. "I know you don't expect that either. And I'm not saying you're going to feel that way."

"Babies are  _messy,"_  Kurt groaned. "They're loud and they take up way too much space and time and — is it wrong of me to wish I had more time with Noah, alone, instead of more time with Noah and Beth?"

"Not wrong at all," Adam said. He stretched his arms above his head with a happy sigh. "And I'm going to ask you in a year if you feel the same way."

Kurt gave him a dubious look. "Okay."

"And maybe you will and maybe you won't." He shrugged. "That's all I'm saying."

Kurt settled into Adam's arms. "So do you miss her?"

"So much," Adam said. "Not in a hurty way, but in a distracted way. Like, I was on stage on Friday, getting ready for opening night, and there I was, looking around for her bottles and paying attention to when she needed to eat."

"That sounds kind of annoying."

"Not even a little bit. Which, I know, weird. But what can I say? Love is funny that way. Do you object to missing Noah and wanting to take care of him?"

"No!" Kurt exclaimed. "Okay. I see what you mean. I just… I hope he won't hate me if I don't love her the way you do. If I want to have him all to myself sometimes."

"You can want that." Adam glanced at the clock. "I hate to say it, but you'd better call your dad if you want to leave by eleven."

Kurt wrapped his arms more tightly around Adam's chest. "He's downstairs in the lobby. We still have six minutes before I have to get dressed."

"Okay," said Adam, smiling. "I'm not going to argue about that. As long as Finn's not home waiting for you. Is he out with Carl tonight?"

He sighed. "God. I didn't tell you. Finn broke up with him."

"Finn broke up with— _Carl?"_  Adam looked floored. "Why? Did something happen?"

"Nothing that wasn't already happening, but I completely missed it. He wanted things Carl couldn't give him." Kurt squeezed a little tighter, then reluctantly let Adam go. "He's at a movie with Sarah and Carole. I don't think he's upset about us being here together."

"Wow. Yeah, I didn't see that coming either." Adam kissed Kurt's cheek before giving him a little nudge. "I hope Carl's okay."

"Me too." Kurt fished on the floor for his socks, smiling faintly. "It's kind of funny how much we care about somebody who's not either of our boyfriends."

"A person doesn't have to be your lover for him to matter."

"No, but he's not just a friend, either." He paused in pulling on his pants, thinking. "There should be a word for boyfriends of boyfriends."

"Former boyfriends of boyfriends?" Adam watched Kurt get dressed with a grave face. "I don't know, honey. Not everybody sticks around forever. I think sometimes you just have to be willing to let people go."

"I don't know if Finn's doing that, though. I have a feeling this is more about him than it is about Carl. He's trying so hard to figure out who he is."

"That seems like the kind of thing you're supposed to do when you're seventeen."

Kurt finished getting dressed while Adam donned his slippers and robe, then joined him at the door. Kurt sent his dad a text:  _One minute left. I'll be downstairs at eleven._

Adam drew his attention away from the phone with a very focused, very leisurely kiss. The way he looked into Kurt's eyes made him weak.

"Is that how it is for you?" Adam asked. "Do I distract you from figuring out who you are?"

"No," said Kurt, very firmly. "You do the exact opposite. You make it possible for me to be anything I want to be."

Adam's smile broke into brilliance. He hugged Kurt fiercely.

"That was exactly the answer I wanted to hear," he whispered.

* * *

Burt saw Carl before Carl saw him. He paused in his transmission repair to wash his hands and make his way up to the front office.

"Hey, there, Carl," he said, offering his hand. Carl shook it. He was definitely not dressed for dentistry, not in that suit and tie. "What are you up to this afternoon?"

"I'm on my way out of town," he said. "It's time for a vacation. I wanted to leave the 'Vette with you for her thirty thousand mile inspection."

"No problem." Burt accepted the keys and slowly typed HOWELL, C into the system to bring up his record. "You've been racking up those miles on your weekend visits to Columbus. We'll be heading out of town pretty soon ourselves, after Puck gets back from, er…" He glanced over at Luke, working out of earshot, and the empty office. "From Tessera."

"Yes, I remember. Carole's family reunion." Carl paused, drumming on the counter. "Look, I know Angela's been bringing the car here since I met… your family. I just want to make sure it's not going to be awkward for me to keep doing that now."

"Awkward?" Burt said blankly.

"Yes. I figure you'd tell me if it were. I'd be willing to take my business elsewhere, if you'd prefer that, but in this city, there's no one else I'd trust more with my car."

Burt still wasn't sure what Carl was talking about, but he shook his head. "No, not at all."

Carl signed the estimate and shook his hand again, then went out front and climbed into the passenger side of the sedan idling by the curb. Burt watched the car drive away, then called Kurt.

" _Did you forget the combination to the safe again?"_  Kurt sighed.  _"It's thirty-seven right, then —"_

"No, nothing like that. I just had a visit from Carl. Howell." As if he could be talking about any other Carl. Burt scratched his head. "I don't know. He was acting really funny."

" _Dad,_ "said Kurt. Now he sounded funny too. " _There can't be that many more people I have to tell this, considering nobody's supposed to know about the two of them. Finn's not with Carl anymore. He broke up with him."_

"Oh. Oh, jeez. I had — I had no idea." He stared out the front door again, as if Carl were still there. "Finn — with him?"

" _Yes, but he's pretty much a wreck about it. If he hasn't talked to you, I bet Carole doesn't know either. Please don't tell her, okay? Let Finn do that."_

"Sure, yeah. Thanks. I'll see you tonight."

He stared at the phone for a minute after he disconnected his call with Kurt. Then he looked on the estimate and found Carl's own phone number, and called it.

" _This is Carl,"_ Burt heard.

"Hey, it's Burt," he said. He decided he'd best just forge ahead. This was already an awkward conversation, and it wasn't going to get easier anytime soon. "I, uh, just wanted to say, I'm sorry about what happened. With you and Finn."

" _That's… kind of you."_  Carl sounded startled.

"Well, Finn's not my son, but… I've seen how you care about him." Burt coughed. "Care  _for_  him. It's not anything I've ever seen anybody do before, but… you've both taught me a lot. As far as I'm concerned, you've been an asset to this family."

" _I appreciate you saying that."_  Burt could tell Carl was struggling, now, could hear the strain in his voice. He hurried on.

"And I want you to know, it's fine for you to bring your car into the shop."

" _Thank you, Burt. I appreciate that we can all be professionals about this."_  He paused.  _"Take care of him, all right?"_

"I'll do what I can," said Burt. "And you, uh, take care of yourself."

He hung up the phone and had to rest his head in his hand for a moment, feeling the weight of the knowledge of exactly  _what_  he had just sanctioned. He sure as hell understood why Finn might have decided it was too much to deal with.

Then he called Carole.

"I have an idea," he said. "I want to run it by you before I make any moves, but I think this would help Finn. Especially considering he's, you know, got summer school starting soon. He might need something to cheer him up a little."

* * *

Finn closed his notebook with a sigh and tossed it onto the coffee table. There was no way he was going to make up enough points in Spanish to get better than a D, no matter how well he did on the final, but at least he wouldn't fail. His mom had already sent in his application for summer school.  _Not exactly how I wanted to spend my summer before junior year,_  he thought.

When he looked up, Kurt was standing on the stairs. "Do you have a minute?"

Before he could answer, his phone rang. He held it up, noticing Blaine's name on the screen. "I have to take this," he said, "but then I do."

Kurt took a couple steps back up the staircase. "Just come upstairs when you're done, okay?"

He nodded, putting the phone to his ear. "Hey."

" _Hi,"_ said Blaine. He could hear the smile in Blaine's voice, and it made him smile, too.  _"So, um, I know you're probably busy, so I'm going to make this quick, but… I wanted you to know first."_

"Know what?"

" _Where I'm going to be this summer."_  He laughed.  _"My mom wants me to stay with her, at her house."_

Finn sat up straight on the green couch. "You mean —"

" _I'll be in Lima."_

He felt a rush of sudden relief. "Oh. Oh, wow."

" _Yeah, I know. It's really weird for me to even think about it, but… I think it'll be okay. You know? I think I can handle it now."_

Finn was smiling bigger, big enough to make it hard to talk. "I think you can too."

" _Yeah?"_ He sounded so shy.

"Definitely. So I'll call you when we get back from the reunion?"

" _That sounds great. Thank you. Good luck on your finals, Finn."_

"Thanks. You too."

Finn sat on the couch for a few more minutes, holding his phone, before he could stand up and go up the stairs. It was probably good that Blaine had waited until now to call him. There was no way he was going to be able to focus now.

"Kurt?" he called. When he rounded the corner, Kurt was sitting at the dining room table. Beside him were Burt and his mom. He paused, looking at them warily.

"What?" he asked. "What did I do now? Is this, like, an intervention or something?"

"Or something," said his mom. She came over and put something small in his hand. "Something you've been waiting for a while."

Finn looked at the object. It was a car key. Stamped on it was the word FORD. He blinked.

"What is this?" he repeated.

"Luke's Wednesday night customer never came back to claim his car," Burt said. "Guess he didn't want to pay for the repairs. His number was disconnected. There was nothing I could do but sell it… or eat the cost, and give it to somebody who needed a car."

Finn stared at Burt. "This is my car?"

"Oh, come on, Finn," said Kurt dryly behind crossed arms. "It's a  _Ford Focus._  I'm not exactly sure it qualifies as a car."

Finn was already heading for the door. The car sitting in the driveway was blue, with a patched tailpipe and a crack across the bottom of the windshield. He came around to the driver's side and put an awed hand on the hood.

"Go on," called Burt from the porch. "Start her up. She still needs a new muffler, but she runs."

Finn climbed into the driver's seat, settling himself onto the grey vinyl upholstery. The key slid into the lock without a hitch. He could hear the muffler issue as soon as he started up the engine, but when he revved it, it was smooth and regular. He ran his fingers over the dashboard.

"Burt figured you'd need something to drive to Columbus this summer." His mom was leaning into the passenger window, smiling. "If he thinks this is safe, I don't think any of us can argue with him."

Finn had to swallow twice before he could say anything. "I — I don't need to go to Columbus. Patrick's coming to Lima for the summer."

His mom's smile widened. "I can tell that's a good thing. Well, maybe in the fall, then."

"I'm not saying I don't want the car," Finn added quickly. "I totally want the car. Wow."

"This isn't a bribe," she said, "but maybe you can think of it as… an incentive. To work extra hard on Spanish this summer. I don't want you to have to repeat that class again."

"No, I will. I mean, I won't." He turned off the engine and climbed out again, coming around to the passenger side to hug her. "Mom, this is… thank you."

"Hey, it was all Burt." She hugged him anyway. "You can thank him."

"I will." He turned his head toward the porch, where Burt and Kurt were standing with their arms around each other, each of them wearing matching grins. He could feel his own tugging at his cheeks.

"Four cars is kind of a lot," he said. "I guess we're going to use up all the space in the garage in the new place after all."

She nodded, laughing. "I never doubted it."

 _The car,_  he thought, _and Blaine here, and Puck home again. The house. And Kurt._

"It's good to see you smiling," said his mom.

"Yeah," he said, leaning against her shoulder. "I have a lot of reasons to do that."

* * *

 

_<http://youtu.be/EabB55IYyOg> _

_I have climbed the highest mountains_  
_I have run through the fields  
_ _Only to be with you_

 _I have run, I have crawled_  
_I have scaled these city walls_  
_These city walls  
_ _Only to be with you_

 _But I still haven't found  
_ _What I'm looking for_

_\- U2, "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm writing these last words of FoYF from a place I could have never imagined being in back in 2012 when I started this story. So much has changed in two and a half years. I want to thank everyone who got involved and kept me going when things got complicated, my friends and cowriters who kept me inspired, and the readers who stuck around through the delays and confusion and Cory's death. Specifically: knittycat99, flinchflower, penthea, supergreak, gala_apples, ca-babs, elexusniall, and jasondragon64. I obviously have plenty to say, but without you, I wouldn't have a lot of reason to say it. Thank you all, so much.
> 
> The sheer size of this piece led me to break it up into individual stories (this is the eleventh of them). Originally titled "The Fingers of Your Fire," which is from a lyric from the Indigo Girls' song "Ghost." All eleven of these stories have been named for lyrics from that song.
> 
> Winter solstice is a perfect time for endings and beginnings. Here's a toast to all of the stories that haven't yet been told. I'll wish for happy endings to all of them.
> 
> -amy


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